In the Arms of An Angel
by ncbexie25
Summary: She wanted to fly away. She did—straight into her angel's arms. When two people who fell in love in the 1860s meet again in 2014, what happens? Jasper/Bella. Vamp/Human. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone!**

**Welcome to **_**In the Arms of An Angel**_**. This is a romance/supernatural/hurt/comfort/somewhat-angsty story. I cannot really remember where this plot bunny came from, but it's been months in preparation and I finally couldn't handle all the planning, so I started writing as well and here we are. **

**This is pretty different to what I've written before on my sister account on bexie25. I don't know why, but for my first venture into NC I felt the need to completely own the characters—or at least the main ones. ;) So that means a **_**lot **_**of OOC, some canon, and a lot of my own spin on things—and events. Jasper and Bella's backstories, for example, are nearly completely original.**

**Chapter length will vary (hopefully not by too much), and I'll be updating once a week on a Sunday (today) at around the same time, if not on the dot the same. That's mostly because of the time difference between Australia and the U.S.; I want to hit you guys in the afternoon (when I wake up) and not too late at night your time.**

**I want to thank my awesome team—Chandrakanta, my beta, banner maker, manip maker, and my pre-readers, Jennifer, Danielle and Alicia (sorry, I don't know all their FF names!) I also want to thank James Ramsey for her help and wonderful wisdom during the first part of the planning and characterization process (yes, I have two documents, both well over 20 pages at the least for the plan and the background of characters and stuff).**

**A few other things—**

**Go onto my fanfic profile page to access the Facebook group for this story and all other stories under this FF account. There, you'll find teasers—both of the story snippet and pictures kind—discussions, a place to question me and where I might respond to reviews if the question is something I think you all need the info to. You can also find the banner there, too. I don't have the banner up anywhere else but Facebook at this point, sorry. :(**

**Summary: She wanted to fly away. She did—straight into her angel's arms. When two people who fell in love in the 1860s meet again in 2014, what happens? Jasper/Bella. Vamp/Human. Rated M.**

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**CHAPTER 1**

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I taped up the last of the boxes with a smile on my face, breathing a sigh of relief. _One step closer_, I thought as I crossed my arms and leaned my elbows against the stack in front of me, lacing my fingers together and resting my chin on top. I looked around the room. It was strange, seeing it now—there was no sign of me here. Even the bed only had one pillow, a white sheet, and a non-descript blanket in case I got cold.

I went over to the pad of paper and pen I'd left on the desk—one of the few items that would not be coming with me, as Charlie had assured me his old desk would cater fine to my needs—and wrote instructions for Renée to follow. If she did, this all would arrive in about a week.

I sticky taped that on top of one of the boxes closest to the door before taking one last scope of the room. With nothing else to do except finish packing and checking my luggage—which I really didn't want to do right now—I lay down on the bed and opened my book to the page I was up to.

I tried to read the book in my hands, I really did. But I found myself easily distracted the more exhausted I became. Mr. Rochester simply was not doing it for me tonight. With a sigh, I set the book down on my bedside table, checked the time, and got ready for bed in my sweats and a checkered, long-sleeve shirt.

Not quite wanting to sleep yet, I looked around for something to do and a light-bulb moment caused me to remember the hemming I needed to do on my jeans. Renée had tried to do them for me last night after I'd gone to bed and had made an utter mess—but she simply would not listen when I told her not to touch them. I sighed and clenched my fists, closed my eyes, then took a deep breath in and out to calm myself. Only when I felt calm again did I open my eyes and shake my head. I grabbed the pair of jeans and the materials I needed and deftly began work. I had been doing this sort of thing for so many years it had become second nature.

I hummed as I quickly completed the task at hand. It was much too quick for my liking, but when I pricked my finger on the last loop with the needle, I knew it was probably time for bed. I finished and tied it off, admired my handy work with a smile, then set them down on the end of the bed for tomorrow. I put my needle and thread away in my kit and put that back in my suitcase. It really was a pity that I was flying to Washington; I'd be able to get so much more done if I was taking the bus or something.

I was just settling when my mother came into the room. She sighed dramatically as her blue eyes took in the scarcely decorated room and the hoard of boxes, stacked and leaning against the wall. Her blonde curls bounced as she shook her head before she turned to me. She smiled sadly and came forward to sit on the bed with me.

"Are you really sure about this, Bella?" she asked softly, reaching forward with her left hand to comb her fingers through my hair.

My relationship with my mother was an odd one. Having been removed from my father's life at six months old and only living with her, we should be close. But the truth was that I saw neither of my parents fulfilling their role.

With Renée, I was the caregiver, the guardian. With my father, I was an estranged child. And I knew that when I moved up there, I'd become his caregiver and guardian, too, to a certain extent; he was, after all, just as hopeless in the kitchen as Renée was.

Thankfully, he at least was responsible enough to handle the accounts, bills, and day-to-day things. Unlike Renée. _Thankfully_, he wouldn't rely on me. Yes, I really was quite bitter, wasn't I?

Sometimes I wondered how my parents had ever found each other, fallen in love, had me, married and been happy—however short a time they had stayed that way. They were just such an unlikely pair, such an unsuited one. They were complete opposites.

From both I was entirely estranged, removed emotionally. To be perfectly honest, moving away from my mother would not affect me as much as it would her.

Not nearly as much.

Somewhat guiltily, I felt relieved.

Plus, I knew my mother had Phil now to make my absence easier. Not that I really felt she'd miss me for much besides my handling the responsibilities that a mother should and normally would fulfill.

Remembering Renée's presence, I stopped my lagging train of thought and cleared my throat, nodding. "Yes, I am."

"I know you're doing this for me, honey—"

"Yes, I am," I said again, sitting up and sighing. "But I'm also doing it for me." She frowned, confused, and I nearly rolled my eyes. Of course; nothing I ever did could ever be for me. "Yes, you are newly married and yes, I want you to be able to travel with your husband without me holding you back," I held my hand up to stop her when she opened her mouth to object, "but I'm also doing it because I want to live with my father before I go off to college. I want to build a relationship with him, and I wouldn't be able to do that by staying here or by continuing to have only a few weeks out of the summer holidays with him." I looked down when I continued. "Re—Mom, when I told him I wanted to move up there, he was so happy," I said softly. I looked up at her again to see her eyes filled with tears as she swallowed and drew in a shaky breath. Guilt flashed across her face before she suppressed it a second later. "He wants me up there, and I want to be up there, too. Please just let me go, because you cannot change my mind."

She sighed and stood up, nodding sadly once more. She left the room and I sighed with relief once she was gone and the door was closed.

Yes. I would indeed be very relieved once I was gone from here and no longer the one responsible for Renée.

I looked down at my hands and at the white prick scar on my finger, one I'd had since before I could remember. Smiling, I remembered a scene from a vivid dream I'd had many years ago.

_I gulped as I looked down at the trousers in one hand and the needle and thread in my other. Of course, this was not the first time I had repaired trousers and I had to say I was quite accomplished at it, but it would be a first of a different nature._

_My hands were shaking with nerves, warmth filling me as I remembered the look on my gorgeous husband's face when I had asked him this morning before he left for his family's property if there was anything of his that needed fixing. He'd nodded and went back into our bedroom to get whatever it was, and his handsome face was twisted with nerves when he came back with a pair of trousers in hand. I took them from him and looked them over as he stood over me, watching. _

_I told him I'd have them fixed by the time he came home later that night._

_It was only once he was gone and I was faced with actually fixing the damn things that I realized this would be the first time I'd do such a thing for him as his wife._

_And that had me scared shitless._

_Of course, I pricked my shaking pointer finger and cursed right on the first loop through._

_But my darling husband made my finger—and other areas of my body—feel all kinds of better later that night as a thank you._

I took a shaky breath in and blew it out of my puffing cheeks. They, like the rest of me, were now red and tingly. I shook my head and settled back down, eyeing the jeans on the edge of the bed. Shaking my head, I changed my mind about what I was gonna wear tomorrow and got up to pack them in my bag.

Feeling an unusual bout of nerves, I went through my bag one more time. I came across my kits and materials—my sewing kit, my needle and thread kit, and my bag of wool—and checked them thoroughly to make sure I had all my parts. I cussed under my breath again, annoyed that I couldn't bring it on board—both for safety reasons and lack of room. All I could hope was that Mr. Rochester and Jane would keep me entertained for the entirety of the four to five hour flight. I'd purposely read slowly if I had to.

With another look around my room, I was disappointed to find that there was nothing else to do but sleep. And that was the last thing I was prepared to do right now. It was hard enough expecting the beautiful dreams and the life I had in those dreams only to wake up later. It was worse because I hated how they'd shaped me so in this life—this _reality_. To everyone else I was a freak who didn't belong in this era, but one about one hundred and fifty years prior. I did belong, though. With _him_. In my dreams—no matter the time period.

If only _he_ was real.

I settled under the covers with a shake of my head, trying to shake the gloomy thoughts. Considering I'd be seeing him in my dreams anyhow, there was no reason for me to feel all sad now. It wouldn't be long.

It never was.

My eyes closed, and I let myself fall into the world I so wish was real.

**~*O*~**

As always, I was only too aware that this was, in fact, a dream. But this one was different… more modern. I'd had dreams of all of Jasper's 'future' after his disappearance and my sudden death in the 1860s during the Civil War, but this was even more recent. It felt like present time.

In fact, as I looked around the small cafeteria, I _knew _it was present time.

I was sitting with unfamiliar people, who were chatting around me but not with me. I was too busy looking around for something. What it was, I didn't know.

I saw them at the door; the short-shit pixie girl with black, spiky hair, and the tall but lanky pretty boy with bronze hair. They were followed by a statuesque blonde who had an air of ice queen about her and a buffed-up brunet boy with curls.

Short-shit pixie smiled at me.

I turned back to the unfamiliar people in front of me and spoke, but couldn't hear the words. She answered animatedly. I became confused for some reason, and then looked over at the door again, where a blond guy, buff but not as buff as Ice Queen's partner, was coming through the door.

He was familiar though, very familiar, and I gasped—I think—and stood up. That was when I knew how I knew him.

It was Jasper.

He looked up at me and gasped as well, as if he knew who I was as well. A jolt ran through me and straight into my heart, making me gasp again. I walked forward, toward him, stopping just a few centimeters in front of him. I barely got his name out before I collapsed, but I didn't fall to the ground. No, Jasper caught me.

The last thing I heard was a very familiar, smooth southern accent breathing my name.

**~*O*~**

"Jasper," I whispered, blinking as I stared up at the ceiling. With a groan, I sat up, hunched forward, and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. I yawned and stretched, rolling my head. Tears pricked, as they always did, but with a shuddering breath in, I suppressed them and closed my eyes. Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees, my legs crossed. My hands cradled my head at my temples, and I rubbed in small circles as if battling a headache.

There was something different about that dream. Apart from being one of the few I could ever remember to have not been in the South, it was set in present time, there was something more definitive about it. All my other dreams of Jasper had felt unreal, especially after my 'death', after which I was more of an observer than a participant, and that was not solely due to the fact of the time period. In fact, I had no idea why it was that they had felt that way.

I sighed again. It was shameful that the only true… _friend_—and I use that word only in reference to my current life—was a figment of my imagination. The only man—and he was _man_ not boy—that I could ever see myself loving, and loving fully and whole-heartedly… _was fictional_.

I took a deep breath to calm myself. The breath was shaky, my throat closing up painfully. The pressure in my chest and throat, and the absolute stupidity and sorrow I felt in this moment, made me want to sob. But I wouldn't let myself. I couldn't.

I was used to it—this loneliness. I had lived with it my entire life. Never quite fitting in, never making friends—being made fun of for things I couldn't help. I knew from my mother's account—and my father's as well—that I had begun dreaming of Jasper quite early on. Time and time again they told me as I grew up how cute my little companion was, speaking to him as if he were in the room as every parent does when they find out their child has no friends but an invisible one. But he wasn't in the room... no matter how much I wished he was. He was merely in my dreams.

And so when I started school, and I was bullied for having a stupid pretend friend and an inexplicable southern accent, I stopped. For a while, I stopped speaking, but eventually I started again—sans accent and sans speak of imaginary friend. To my parents, Jasper was no longer. I had "grown up."

Part of me always wondered at that—why I might have an imaginary friend, and why he had not gone away as of yet. Why it all felt so damned real, even now at my age of eighteen. Why the dreams had turned into… more.

I looked around the room, my face so hot it felt like a beacon of light lighting up the room. I sighed again and lay back down, tired and in need of sleep before tomorrow. I smiled at the thought of what was to come—my time of freedom from absolute responsibility. I hoped idly that Charlie was more competent in most areas bar cooking. I knew he sucked shit at cooking.

And so with one last thought of Jasper, I let myself fall back onto the bed, my head burrowed into my pillow, cooling my burning cheeks. I sighed in relief as the inferno ceased and closed my eyes, drifting slowly to sleep. This time, it was dreamless.

A mere few hours later, my seven am alarm woke me up. I slapped my hand on the stop button and got up, stretching and groaning. I had a ten o'clock flight, and just in case—and because Renée was sure to be frenzied enough—I had insisted on leaving home at eight-thirty.

I'd showered last night and would shower again tonight in Forks—another reason why I hated planes; they always made me feel dirty, not the least of which had to do with the stale, infected air that was passed around from mouth to mouth. You were literally breathing in a person's disease. I immediately got dressed, packing my pajamas in my suitcase. I headed out to get the day started. Phil had already gotten up and most likely had given Renée a sleep in as he showered, so I woke her up and told her breakfast would be ready in fifteen. When she started getting out of bed, I turned and rapidly walked out of the room. There was only so much I could handle, and watching my naked mother sneak into the shower with her husband was not one of them. I shivered in disgust as I walked down the hall to the kitchen.

Breakfast was simple—toast and eggs. Renée preferred them scrambled, as did I, but Phil liked them poached. I got out the eggs and the sauces and put them on the table. I used four eggs for the scrambled, and got one egg for Phil. He wasn't a big breakfast eater, though I'd tried to feed it into him. I sighed and shook my head. He was more stubborn about breakfast than Jasper!

I smiled at the memory—_dream, rather_—but it dropped quickly when I realized what I had just done… or thought, really. I berated myself for again thinking of the make believe and flicked my forehead sharply. I turned back to the task at hand.

When the eggs were done—somehow I had managed not to overcook them, what with my frazzled mind—I scooped the scrambled into a bowl and the poached onto a plate for Phil. He didn't mind so much, but Renée was, funnily enough, pedantic about serving herself. I didn't mind—at the risk of being unintentionally mean-spirited, it was, perhaps, the only thing she actually did for herself.

I got the breads out and then the toaster. When I had first started making toast—particularly after Phil moved in—I immediately knew that the arrangement we'd had back then wouldn't work. So I had saved money up to buy a four-slice toaster for us. It was a dream. I plugged it in and deftly put white bread in for me, grain in for Phil, and whole-meal for Renée—one piece for Renée and I and two for Phil was all that was needed.

I had the table all set with the food and any other things they'd want to add on when they came out.

"Thanks, Bella," Phil said as he sat down at the head. "This looks great."

I smiled and shrugged. "That's fine. Is there anything else you guys want?"

They looked around the table before shaking their heads. They dug in and I smiled to myself before doing the same, breathing a sigh of relief.

Apparently, I was too quick.

"Oh, yes!" Renée exclaimed. "Would you get me the low fat butter instead? I'm trying to watch my weight, remember."

I cleared my throat and got up immediately to get it. I ignored the part of me that wanted to serve up a big "fuck you" instead. This was my last morning here—thank fuck—and I could deal for a little longer. "Right! Sorry about that," I said, swallowing back the words I really wanted to say.

"Not to worry, dear," she said as I handed it to her then walked around the other side to sit down.

"Anything else?" I asked one last time, gritting my teeth. _I swear to god, if they get me up one more time…_

"No," they both said.

"Good," I mumbled. I nodded to myself once and finally got into my own breakfast. My erratically appearing, short-fused temper defused as fast as it had infused and I felt my tense muscles relax. My work in this house was officially done. I barely refrained from squealing in delight.

We finished breakfast, and of course, I was left to clean up. Sometimes, like today, this angered me, but for the most part, I ignored it. The house, in the past, would have been in disrepair if I wasn't here to clean it, and Phil milked my servant-like behavior—a fact I chose to ignore most of the time so as not to cause a fuss. I had no idea why it was suddenly bombarding me today. Perhaps it was because this was the last time I was going to be doing it and I was closer to freedom from that sort of responsibility. Though I had a feeling it was due to something else entirely.

One frantic Renée looking for a pair of shoes that she had thrown out last week later, the three of us were in the car, my suitcases in the back, and we were on the road. My goodbye to the house and neighborhood was short. I knew I wouldn't miss it here.

We got to the airport in no time at all. I got out of the car and breathed in the hot air. I loved the burn it caused. I took another deep breath, taking advantage of the last that I'd feel for a while as I pulled my sunglasses down to cover my eyes. Phil passed me my suitcase and I unclicked the handle and pulled it up into place. I turned back to the car and grabbed my bag. I glanced to the back of the car as I slung it over my shoulder.

Renée stood with Phil, whose arm slung around her shoulder. His fingers rubbed the top of her arm gently, soothingly. As soon as our eyes met through sunglasses, and I was gripping my suitcase handle, Renée surged forward and took me in her arms. I jolted from the unexpected force and shock, and after a few moments I lifted a hand and patted her shoulder then wrapped the same arm around her. I withdrew quickly.

"You can come home at any time," she said, pinching my cheeks in her fingers. I winced.

"I know," was all I said.

Thankfully, Phil pulled her away. "See you, Bella," he said, giving me the same one-armed hug I'd given my mother. I smiled, tight-lipped, and said nothing.

"Bye." I got out of their grasps. "I'll, uh, call as soon as I land."

"And email me every day!" Renée insisted.

I sighed internally, but nodded. "Sure, Mom," I replied softly.

She nodded shakily and burrowed into Phil.

I smiled brightly, gripping the suitcase tighter. "Well, I should probably get going. All that security and stuff to get through…"

They nodded and I turned around and walked away. I turned just as I reached the door into the airport and waved, smiling tightly. They'd already gotten into the car and weren't looking. I sighed, rolled my eyes, and turned back around to walk through.

It was easy to follow the direction. Despite the confusion of Phoenix's airport, I'd been here many times as a child. I wasn't quite sure why I remembered it so vividly; to be quite blunt, I found myself impartial to both parents though Charlie was definitely _easier _than my mother.

Then again, I struggled daily with living in this world. I just felt so disconnected from it all.

"Excuse me, Miss?" a man's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I blinked and looked up and around. A tanned and balding man, probably in his forties, sat beside me in this cramped plane. He was leering at me, but there was something I saw in his eyes—for the brief moment before I looked away—that was oddly peculiar. Internally shaking away the thought, I cleared my throat, and shuddered at the memories of my so-realistic dreams. "Yes?"

"Is it my lucky day today or something?" he asked with a smirk.

I frowned, forcing myself to ignore his creepiness. "I'm sorry?"

"You heard, sweet thing," he said.

My right brow and side of my jaw twitched. Anger now rising over disgust and fear, I locked my jaw and stared hard into his eyes. "If you want me to tell my father then I can assure you that I didn't," I replied evenly, lowering my voice. "He's very resourceful as the Chief of Police." _No need to tell this guy that he's only the Chief of Police of the small, rainy town of Forks._

His eyes widened, and the smirk disappeared from his face. I couldn't hide the smirk of satisfaction that grew across my face at that. I turned in my seat once more, away from him, and faced the front. I ignored him as he sat down in a huff next to me, my skin crawling and my stomach rolling.

"So, how old are you?" he asked after a few moments.

I turned around and raised an eyebrow. My defenses kicked in, and coldly, I snapped, "Too young for you, baldy. Now fuck off."

When the plane doors had closed and we started toward the tarmac, I took the two empty seats next to me. I stretched out over the two seats, not trusting the creep, and shut my eyes. I soon fell asleep.

**~*O*~**

Thankfully, when I woke up as we were about to descend, Creep was well and truly still on his side. He seemed engrossed by whatever he was reading. I rubbed my hands over my face, yawned, and sat up to stretch. The last round of drinks was coming, and I took an orange juice, deciding not to dilute it with water so I'd wake up faster. I winced at the strong tangy taste but chugged it anyhow.

Descending took no more than twenty minutes, and I got up and collected my things as soon as I could. I was one of the first off the plane, and did not encounter Creep again—thank fuck. I went through the motions, and quickly turned my phone on again as I got out into the main area of the airport. Charlie wasn't here yet, and I imagined he wouldn't check his phone yet, but I sent him a text anyway.

**Here. Meet outside? ~Bella**

I made my way to the nearest exit, and sighed as I got outside. It was raining and it was cold, of fucking course. I shook my head though; I couldn't be a negative nelly—I'd chosen to come here. I just had to lie in the cold, wet bed I'd made.

I closed my eyes after a few minutes, sitting down on a seat closest to the door, under the covering. I smiled as my mind immediately conjured up sweet images of a sunny, hot Texas. Tears prickled in my eyes as I remembered the dream I'd had last year of hands clasped together, the other hand of each person weaving and brushing through tall-grass in a large field.

Sniffling, I opened my eyes and shook my head.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_, I chastised myself bitterly.

"Bells!" I heard from my right. I looked up and around, forcing a smile on my face as I saw my father. He was in his police uniform, so I knew he'd drop me off and then go back to work—his wife and family.

I got up just as he reached me. He grabbed my bag off me and slung it over his shoulder, leaning forward to hug me in a rare, completely unexpected, and uncharacteristic display of affection. I closed my eyes briefly as his arm curled around my upper back, over my shoulder blades. I opened them as he let me go and we shared a smile—one that actually came naturally to me this time.

The drive back to Forks from Seattle was silent, and took quite a while—about three and a half hours. By the time we stopped outside the house, it was dark. Charlie hopped out as soon as the car was parked and got my bag out for me. He closed my door after me, leaving the keys in the ignition—further proof he'd be leaving as soon as he was sure I was settled.

He let us into the house, and I stopped in the hall, taking a look around. The stairs were just a few steps away, slightly off to the left. Between that and the door were a mirror and a slim but lengthy table with a bowl on it for various keys and loose change. To the right was an archway into the living room, and another from there into the kitchen. There was another door down the hall between the archway, the wall and the staircase led to the kitchen as well, it looked like, but it was shut and I could not recall ever using it. There were glass sliding doors straight from the kitchen into the backyard. The backyard, from memory, was small but quite nice and led straight into the woods—no fences.

Upstairs, again only from memory, were two bedrooms of equal size and a bathroom at the end of the hall, opposite which was a fixed cupboard for towels and bed linen.

Charlie's house was nice, quaint, and small. But it worked for him, and I knew it would work for me as well. Unlike Renée, I had no desire for the grandeurs of life; I much preferred simple—one of the many qualities my mother detested in me. Renée was never able to understand that with which she was unfamiliar.

"Bells?" Charlie called, forcing me from my thoughts. I blinked and looked over at him. He was at the foot of the stairs, looking expectant. I smiled and nodded, shoving my hands in my pocket. He made his way up the stairs and I followed him.

He led me to the door opposite his room at the top of the stairs—my room. With a nervous glance at me, he opened the door and stepped through. As I'd done downstairs, he continued through and let my bag down onto the bed with a huff of exertion while I hung back and looked.

"Purple's good, right? Sue helped me with the room… said teenage girls like purple," Charlie blurted out after a minute or two of silence.

I blinked and nodded, looking at the bed. "Purple's fine. Thanks, Dad."

He nodded and silence fell between us once again. Then he started again. "I—I'm really glad you're here, Bells," he said gruffly, looking down at his feet.

I smiled a small smile. "So am I, Dad." And for some reason, I really was.

He glanced up at me with a small smile of his own, nodded, and then returned to his usual gruffness. "Uh… well, I gotta get back to work to finish something off. I'll be home soon—maybe in around an hour, so seven-thirty?"

I shrugged. "Sure… I'll have dinner ready."

He blushed and said nothing, choosing to nod again in appreciation. Then he turned jerkily and walked out the door. I pressed my lips together to stop my giggle. Charlie certainly hadn't changed.

I stood around in the room until I heard the door downstairs shut loudly. I sighed and relaxed my shoulders. Walking forward a little, I sat down on the bed. Gloom and depression rolled through me at the clouds and rain and wind outside, but I pushed back the tight feeling in my throat and the tears in my eyes. I sighed again.

"Welcome to Forks," I muttered to myself, looking around the room before letting myself fall back sharply against the bed.

I closed my eyes, tried to ignore the sounds from outside, and imagined hot, sunny Texas and entwined hands and tall-grass. I sniffled and curled up on the bed on my side. A watery smile settled on my face as I thought of Jasper, and for the thousandth time, I wished he were real.

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**Just a few more things…**

**First up, I have to promise you I don't usually have such huge ANs. I just wanted to keep you informed about a few things this first go 'round.**

**Dreams and memories like that aren't going to be the norm, I don't think. In the 20 chapters or so I already have planned, it's not happened again (from the top of my memory). **

**This will be all BPOV. There's no Jasper. Sorry about that.**

**A re-cap from up the top—posts are once a week, on a Sunday at this time pretty much on the dot. You can find the Facebook group to post questions, read sneak peeks, view pic teasers, check out the banner and discuss—link on profile. **

**Another thank you to my pre-readers: Jennifer, Danielle, and Alicia, and also to my awesome manip maker, banner maker and beta, Chandrakanta. A special thanks to James Ramsey, as well, for all her help. **

**And I think that's all for now. See you next week on Sunday…**

**Please review—at the very least to tell me you're with me and what you think.**

**ncbexie25**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone!**

**Wow! Thanks so much for the amazing, encouraging response so far! I'm excited about the amount of views, alerts, favourites and reviews! I hope you stick with me!**

**Just a side note about those 'HERE' things I had in the last chapter's ANs. I had been trying to add the chapter to the docs the night before, but FF wasn't working (typical) and so I had to do it in the morning, like now, which is a bit of a rush for me. So I forgot about those links and then I went back to fix them only to find that you couldn't have hyperlinks in story chapters (which I didn't know before). So sorry about that. You can find all the relevant links on my profile. Can't wait to hear from you!**

**So this chapter nearly didn't get out to you today, so I'm really thankful to my team, Chandra, Jennifer, Danielle, and Alicia for all their hard work—especially my poor pre-readers who got the chapter 8 hours ago!**

**There's a cliffy in this one… sort of. So I know you probably won't be very happy with me… *smiles sheepishly* Sorry.**

**I think we'll keep these relatively short—see? They're not all long.**

**See you down the bottom! **

**Read, review, enjoy! **

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**CHAPTER 2**

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Twenty minutes later, I jogged downstairs, feeling utterly refreshed; I'd nearly fallen asleep, so tired was I despite the sleep on the plane from all the drama that Renée's house brought. Already, I could feel myself calming down and settling into a quieter, more relaxing life up here. Because of limited time, I'd showered earlier than planned to keep me awake and wash off the grime of the day. I'd then changed into a long-sleeved, moss green, fuzzy sweater and a long black maxi skirt. I'd slipped on a pair of flats as well.

My hair hung down around my shoulders as I hesitantly moved through the archway and into the living room. My eyes immediately landed on the cluster of photo frames that lined the mantle above the fireplace, and I groaned. I couldn't resist coming closer, though, when I spotted one of the three of us—my mother, my father, and myself, as a small baby.

I smiled and swallowed as I reached up and let my finger slide across the glass that covered the photo. I was bewitched by how utterly different my father, in particular, looked. He just looked so very happy as he smiled into the camera, Renée huddling close, her eyes preoccupied by me, lying in her arms. I was smiling and looking up at Charlie. I seemed to be mid-kick against his hand as it held my small foot.

My eyes filled with tears, and a strange feeling of sorrow washed over me. I so wished my father could be that man again. He was so different now; gone was the smile and laugh lines and in their place, frown lines abounded and there was a heaviness in his tread—as if the emotional turmoil of the past had literally manifested weights on his shoulders to hold him down.

I crossed my arms over my chest, pushed back my feelings, and turned toward the kitchen. Charlie would probably be home soon, and I needed to get dinner started as I'd said I would.

I groaned as soon as I entered the kitchen. Renée's influence was everywhere, unchanged in the eighteen years since she'd left with me. The bright yellow cupboards I definitely remembered from when I was younger—Renée had painted them so for one reason: to bring more sunlight into a rainy—and what she felt (and I agreed) was a gloomy—town.

But it was the fact that these cupboards had stayed untouched—no color changes, not even another coat slapped on to maintain the paint job—for so long that saddened me. It was just proof that my father truly had never gotten over my mother… just as her new marriage with Phil—and before that, her varied lovers frequently coming and going from the house—proved that she most certainly had.

I felt just a pinch of anger before I thwarted that; Renée had acted no different in her life after leaving Charlie than I'd heard stories of her acting with Charlie. It was as if he meant nothing to her.

But as awkward as it was for me to stand here—and live here—in this homage to my father's failed marriage with my mother, I knew there was nothing I could do. I could hardly ask for him to remove the photographs from the mantle, or paint the cupboards. This was his house—he was the man of this house. I was the guest, no matter the fact that I would be living her for at least the six or so months that I would be. No matter the fact that he was my father, and therefore, technically, what's his was mine.

Brushing off the thoughts as I'd done so much today, I opened the freezer door for ideas.

Fish.

I closed that door and opened the fridge. Of course, there was nothing in there but four eggs, half a carton of milk, some butter, and jam. I groaned, hissed a curse under my breath, and slammed the door shut, leaning my back against it, my arms across my chest.

Typical Charlie.

I calmed down quickly when I remembered it was either fish—something nutritional—or sandwiches for dinner.

"Fish it is," I muttered unenthusiastically to myself. I took a deep breath, turned around and opened the door to the freezer again. Grudgingly, I leaned forward again and spied the collection he had. Finding a large and a small piece, I dug them out of the freezer and slammed it down on the closest counter.

It seemed Charlie had taken them somewhere—or had done it himself—and gotten them gutted as there was little for me to do besides spray oil from a can on the pan and fry them lightly. Then I put them in the oven for a little while with some potatoes I'd found in the cupboard beside the stove. I sat down and knitted as I waited for it all to cook.

**~*O*~**

Dinner had actually gone quite well. During, I'd broached the subject of my duties with Charlie, and to my surprise—and delight—I found him to be quite bashful that his daughter would be taking care of him, and not (quite) the other way around. He certainly was nowhere near as relieved as Renée had been when I'd proposed a set of chores and responsibilities with her at the tender age of eight.

Mentally, I tacked that on to another piece of evidence as to how different my parents were from one another.

After dinner was a little too awkward for my tastes, and so after watching the news with him, I quickly cleaned the kitchen and went upstairs. I quickly emailed my mother to tell her I'd arrived safely and that I would call her over the next few days—I only did this as she would never call me (she'd forget) and then she would call me out of the blue in a panic over the next few days. Of course she'd blame me for not having called or emailed her in the first place.

And I was of no mind to deal with her petty rants.

After sending that email off, I settled into bed and finished off the black and white scarf I was knitting. When it was finished, I smiled and held it in my hands, admiring my work. I'd definitely give that a go tomorrow at school. I read a little _Jane Eyre _after that and zoomed through to the final few chapters. I stopped myself from reading their reunion—I'd leave that for tomorrow night in case the day did not go quite as well. Something to look forward to, at the very least, and something to save tomorrow, I was sure.

At ten, I got up and changed for bed then headed downstairs to say goodnight from the staircase. When Charlie didn't respond, I descended the stairs and went to his side. I smiled at the two beers on the table, turned off the T.V., and nudged him awake. When he assured me he'd get up and go off to his own bedroom, I made my way back upstairs and to my own bed.

I set my alarm, packed my book bag, and settled into the covers as the wind and rain picked up outside.

It was hard to sleep, so unused to the howling storms was I.

When I woke up in the morning, I dressed in a long-sleeved dark blue shirt and a pair of brown/grey-wash jeans then headed downstairs and found Charlie already awake and dressed in his uniform in the kitchen. He was reading the paper. I gasped just slightly at the flash of a memory of a dream I'd had once, of much the same thing, only Charlie was not a policeman and it was the 1860s. I shook my head and stepped out of it, loitering in the archway. Charlie seemed off in his own world as he read the paper with a frown on his face. With a little smile, I cleared my throat quietly to announce my presence.

He jolted a little and looked up. "Oh," he said, jumping up out of the chair. "Hi… uh, how was your sleep?"

My lips twitched, but I was determined to remain straight-faced as I answered him. "Fine, thank you. And yours?"

"Same, same," he said. We stood in a few beats of silence, awkwardly in the kitchen.

"Would you like an omelet for breakfast?" I asked quietly when I couldn't think of anything else to say. "It's a good way to start a Monday."

He blinked then nodded, his cheeks reddening a little just as mine did when I was embarrassed. Though, of course, my blush was far more vibrant.

I was quite relieved when Charlie left for work after breakfast. I headed back upstairs and wrapped my new black and white scarf (the colors fading from one to the other, a mix of tones) around my neck. I'd made it so it was basically a wide circle scarf, which meant it wrapped around my neck nicely and easily with a few twists and such. After I had it sitting the way I wanted it to, I quickly put on some mascara and lip balm. I left my hair down for warmth, and for shoes, I chose my black ankle boots. My thickest coat was black and so I donned that as well when I went downstairs and walked out the door, my book bag in tow.

Charlie had mentioned that I wouldn't have the car he'd arranged for me until perhaps this evening, and I had declined his offer for a lift. There was absolutely no way I would be riding to school and back again in a police cruiser. No sir-ee. So, I would be walking to school, a prospect I was completely fine with. I slipped my earphones into my ears, set the music on, and began my walk.

It was only a few miles.

The walk was easier than I had come to expect after Charlie's directions and small rants about safety. I'd chosen to ignore a lot of what he had said on the subject, simply because most of it had been said to ensure I would take him up on his offer. But I would not be swayed; I was a stubborn little thing, after all.

A small smile settled on my face, just fleetingly, when I remembered my dreams of Jasper calling me his stubborn little five foot four wife—though that last word was frequently changed to a variety of others depending on the mood, the occasion, and the circumstance.

I entered the office and was met with a sweet old lady by the name of Mrs. Cope. She went through the details of what I had to do, and gave me a map and my schedule at the end of it. She only let me go when I resolutely promised to return the slip she'd given me at the end of the day.

My first class was English with the surly and morose Mr. Mason. He decided to be cruel and had me stand at the front of class and announce my name and where I had come from before he allowed me to sit down—in the front row, right in the middle. A brunette busty girl at my right immediately introduced herself as Jessica and animatedly chattered away at me for the rest of the class, despite Mr. Mason's and my cues for her to stop and pay attention.

I was just glad to get away from her at the end of the lesson and wandered my merry way to one of the multiple other buildings for my government class. There, I met another girl—this time a blue-eyed blonde with fake tan by the name of Lauren. I could immediately tell from her disposition that she was a friend of Jessica's. Apparently, she had also been in English with us, but was stationed further toward the back of the room. It was my understanding, from what she was telling me, however, that she and Jessica had been texting during class.

By trigonometry, I was praying for a reprieve, and I got one in the shy and lovely Angela. This teacher, like Mr. Mason, made me stand up in front of the class, but she at least had half a mind to sit me next to someone a lot quieter. At the end of the lesson, we were handed an assignment to work on in pairs. Angela and I shared a smile, and I knew we would get along well.

By Spanish, I was of a much quieter state of mind, but I was beginning to feel a little hungry. I was set aside to sit by myself toward the back of the classroom, something I was ever so thankful for, and my teacher did not ask me to do any such thing as the three previous had. When the bell rang for lunch, I jumped from my seat and followed the herd toward the cafeteria. I was relieved when neither Jessica nor Lauren greeted me along the way, and I made sure to hide my face as I walked past them.

I was immediately taken aback when I entered the cafeteria, however. It was so very similar—or rather, it was exactly the same—as the one from my dream last night. The banners, the tables, the trees outside, the weather—everything was like a photo right out of last night's dream.

I shrugged it off as mere coincidence—perhaps Charlie's descriptions of the school had initiated my correct imaginings.

I got my food and paid for it, and just as I turned to sit at one of the empty tables toward the back of the cafeteria, I heard a shout, "Over here, Bella!" and turned to find Jessica standing and waving in my direction to gain my attention. I sighed, defeated, and walked over to sit down. Beside her was Lauren, a few other people I had not yet met, and to my surprise, Angela.

"Hello," I said as I came to a stop in front of their table. I didn't want to seem presumptuous by sitting down, and to be perfectly honest, I actually had no desire to sit with anyone at this table other than Angela. My skin crawled at the looks on some of the boys' faces as they eyed me, so I pointedly ignored them.

Lauren and Jessica shared a look and giggled. "Well, come on—sit down with us!"

"Oh… okay," I said, nodding once. I sat my tray down directly opposite Lauren, and took the seat between a girl and one of the boys. Thankfully, he, at least, wasn't looking at me strangely. In fact, he seemed to be casting not-so-subtle glances toward Angela. She sat on the opposite side of the round table next to Jessica. I, too, glanced at her once I was settled, and smiled when I saw her look at the boy beside me right after he stopped looking at her.

"Hello, Bella," she said quietly. Her brown hair, around the same length as mine but thinner and much darker, swirled around her face, her long fringe concealing half of her face as well.

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table, crossed. There was a bright and encouraging smile on my face as I replied, "Hello, Angela."

Lauren interrupted before I could continue. "So, how's your first day been, Bella?"

I turned to look at her and straightened up, sitting back in my chair. "It's been good, thank you. A little overwhelming—"

"So why did you move up here?" Jessica asked.

I stopped for a moment and looked at her, then Lauren and then the rest of the table. I shrugged. "I wanted to spend time with my father before I moved to college. I'm sure you are all aware that my mother left with me when I was quite young, and that I have spent very limited time with him since then." I glanced around the table.

A few nodded, but most looked bored and simply ignored our conversation. Jessica and Lauren were leaning forward, eyes staying on me the whole time as if they were riveted. I knew what this was immediately, but chose to ignore the fact that they were using me to up their popularity. High school girls would always be high school girls.

Angela bravely put forward her own question then. I could hardly make it out she was so quiet. She was sitting much the same as I was, just a little more hunched in on herself. "Is it strange? Being back here in a totally different environment after growing up in hotter places?"

I took a moment to think about her question. "Yes and no. To be honest with you, I do prefer hotter and drier climates than Forks provides, but being able to stay with my father," _and away from my mother and her needy ways, _I mentally added, "makes it worth it. I don't have much of a relationship with him, and I would like to, especially since he's been alone up here and I'd only come up for a few weeks each year. I cannot imagine how lonely he must have been, especially during the holiday season."

I stopped myself from going further. I found myself quite enjoying speaking to Angela. I sent her a discreet look to make sure she knew I would most definitely like to continue our discussion, and from the small smile and practically unnoticeable nod she returned, I knew she knew.

"Right, I get that," Jessica replied. "So, like, what are you into?"

I blinked. "Into?"

"Yeah, you know, like hobbies and stuff…" she said, shrugging her shoulders and brushing my confusion off. Her voice was annoyingly bubbly and that made me extremely uncomfortable; I was by no means shy with those I knew well, but unfortunately—in reality—that was quite literally no one.

"Oh, yes, um…" My mind boggled as I tried to think on the spot of what I could say. I could hardly mention my love of sewing or knitting or mending—or most of my other hobbies—as they were hardly popular in this day and age and certainly not so for a teenager. Plus, I hardly wanted to be bullied at this school as I had been in the past; knowing my parents and their strangely overprotective nature when it came to this issue, I knew I could hardly trust them to let me stay here. And there was certainly no way I was moving back to Phoenix.

I looked around the table and found that most eyes were on me. I looked around for any ideas from any of their books, and mercifully, I found that one of Angela's folders was embellished with a violin. I turned back toward Jessica and Lauren and smiled. "I like music," I said, "listening and playing."

"What else?" Lauren asked, cocking her head to the side with a raised eyebrow. A smile was toying on her lips.

I felt myself become nervous, my mind completely blank. As was always the case when I felt a bout of nerves, my tight hand on my accent slipped as I opened my mouth to speak. "Uh, well," I hesitated, my accent hinting.

I felt as though cold water was thrown down on me from above when I watched them smirk at each other. "What was that?" they asked innocently enough.

I closed my mouth shut, deciding not to say a thing. My nerves were even worse now, and I was sure that if I spoke, my accent would come out in full bloom. Not something I'd quite hoped for my first day. _Fucking high school girls_.

They asked me again, leaning forward, and my heart clenched painfully in panic. I desperately wanted to simply get up, take my tray of completely untouched food, and trudge along to find somewhere else to sit. I honestly felt as though they were trapping me, and I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself, but it really wasn't working.

I looked around, trying to find something else to hint at what I could respond with—something that would hopefully help me control myself once again. I looked toward the door and that was when I first saw them.

There were only two of them at first, but they, too, were straight out of my dream. It was that small pixie girl again and her partner, who towered over her, with bronze hair and a lean yet somewhat muscular body. The fact that I could remember them from a dream, coupled with how familiar this entire scene had already been, made it hard for me to look away. Right at the moment they reached the door, the girl looked directly at me and smiled. As they entered the room, I saw her partner's arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to him.

Close behind them was the second couple that I remembered from my dream: the very same blonde, and her robust and bulky boyfriend with the short brunet curls. When the blonde started to turn to look at me, I turned back to the people in front of me. I couldn't help but ask, "Who are they?" I pointed towards the four with my chin. I forced myself not to look back at them, despite how much I desperately wanted to. It was stupid to believe that _Jasper _would be walking in behind them; he was a figment of my imagination. I'd probably just planted him in my dream; hell, I probably had remembered these people subconsciously from one of my times here years before!

Though part of me was quite sure I'd certainly remember people so beautiful and distinct if I _had _seen them—even once.

I told that part of me to shut the fuck up. And then I tuned in on what Lauren had just begun to say in response to my question. "…Cullens. They were the new ones before you, but they've been here for a few years now. The first couple who came in—that's Alice and Edward; Alice is super weird and she looks like a boy. Then there's Edward"—I could almost hear the pathetic sighs from the girls at the table before they snapped out of it—"he's just a dick. Like, seriously; just because he's beautiful does _not _mean he's God's gift to females everywhere."

A smirk twitched across my lips as I detected the sourness in her tone. I wondered vaguely when she may have flaunted her attributes only for him to turn her down in favor of the girlfriend he already had. Glancing once more at Alice just increased the confidence I had in my interpretations; she might have been short, but she was certainly not one with a 'boyish figure'. She was really quite curvaceous for her height and weight. Nowhere near as much as Jessica, mind, but still not what I'd call 'boyish'.

Jessica jumped in to continue. "The second couple that came in—that's Rosalie and Emmett; Rosalie is a total bitch who thinks she's better than everyone else, and Emmett's, like, a goof. He's a total jock, and it's obvious that he works out and is super good at sports, but he's not on any of the school teams. I guess they're not good enough for him or the family or something."

"I wonder where Jasper is, though, huh?" one of the other girls further along the table said suddenly. She seemed to be looking toward the door. "He's not here yet, and I was really hoping to see him before I leave early for my study date." The salacious grin on her face as she winked at the boy across from her indicated just how much 'study' would be occurring in that particular date.

But as soon as the name she'd used registered, I felt as though I'd been shocked with electricity. I felt it when my jaw dropped, my eyes widening. I barely got the lone word out, stuttering, "J-Jasper?"

The girl with red hair looked at me strangely. "Yes. They have a brother named Jasper. He's superhot and blond and he's pretty muscular but he doesn't talk to anyone. Shame, really; he's the only one that's single."

Blond. Muscular.

_Jasper._

I swallowed just as I heard the same girl squeal about his presence. I couldn't stop myself, my heart throbbing as I dared to believe he may actually be real. Surely it wasn't a coincidence. Surely. I looked toward the door just as the blond and muscular Jasper came through the door.

I gasped, and my body moved involuntarily as I stood. I faintly heard giggling behind me, the girls asking me if I was okay, and others laughing that Jasper had that kind of effect on people. And I knew that; I knew exactly what kind of effect he had on people—I knew better than anyone.

I couldn't respond to them. I could barely even think. Some part of my mind knew that this was indeed real—that _he _was indeed real—but my mind couldn't make sense of it. It was just so fucking confusing.

In the back of my mind, dreams—or were they somehow, impossibly, memories considering he was real?—played back to back. Flashes of him and I together—waking up in bed together at daybreak, sharing smiles as we looked into each other's eyes… me walking up the aisle toward him in a dress and he in the dress of the 1860s… the first time I saw him at the age of six… our first kiss, crazy as it was, when I was fifteen and he sixteen. They continued on and on and on.

My throat was tight and my eyes were watering. I could hardly see him as I started unconsciously to step slowly toward him, but I was pretty sure he hadn't seen me yet and so I hesitated from walking straight to him. A few moments later, I literally felt it when his eyes landed on me, and the sound of his sharp inhalation propelled something within me. In an instant, I felt a jolt run through my body—the very same one we'd felt when we'd somehow met in the 1860s, only stronger. Instinctively, or perhaps it was intuition, I knew he felt it as well. But I could not focus on him as it traveled through my veins, burning straight through to my heart. I gasped anew at the wild sensation.

My mind was still a blur of confusion, so much so that I felt my body weakening, my mind dragging me into unconsciousness, but I pushed against it. I blinked hard a few times as I walked the last few steps to Jasper. And then I was right in front of Jasper, who looking down at me with much the same expression in his eyes as I had.

"Jasper," I breathed in a shaky whisper.

It was the last thing I said before my mind won. The last things I felt and heard were cool arms circling my waist and a smooth, rich southern accent I knew all too well hoarsely reply.

"Isabella."

* * *

**So that's the end of chapter 2. **

**You will have to unfortunately wait until next Sunday for chapter 3. **

**Not really all that much to say from me, I think. Just I hope you enjoyed it, please review, and I'll see you next week!**

**Can't wait to hear your thoughts!**

**ncbexie25**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone!**

**Welcome back for chapter 3. Thanks for the awesome response to the second chapter—and, indeed, this story. I can't wait to hear what you think about this one. Believe it or not, when I first wrote it, it ended up being just 3000 words. I somehow added 2000 here and there. **

**Thanks to all the usual suspects—Chandrakanta, Danielle, Jennifer and Alicia; without their help, you would never get these… and never on time!**

**Welcome James Ramsey to the reading front! :) You may remember me dropping her name in the first chapter, thanking her for all her awesome wizardry in the planning process. Her tips have not been forgotten, and they've actually helped me with a _major _part of this story. So thanks again, James! :)**

**Not much else to say. There is a note, however, regarding replying to reviews with teasers. If you're interested in what I have to say, then read it, please. You may find you benefit. ;)**

**And that's it, I think. For now, anyway. **

**Enjoy! See you down the bottom…**

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

* * *

Awareness came to me long before I opened my eyes. I was instantly confused as my brain registered that I was lying flat on something comfortable, and that something was covering me—as if I were lying in a bed.

Faintly, I could hear running water somewhere. I was pretty sure that wherever I was, I was completely alone, as the room was practically soundless.

I tried to open my eyes several times, but couldn't. Finally, after a few more minutes of taking in my surroundings, I was able to open my eyes. I looked up at a pale ceiling. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw green, so I turned my head to the right and gasped. I was faced with a wall of floor-to-ceiling glass windows that took up the whole side of that wall in the room, and outside, I was surrounded, much as it was at my own house, with very tall trees, clumped together: a forest.

My heartbeat rose and started to pound as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing, where I was, and why. I thought back to the last thing I could remember—the school cafeteria… sitting at a table… looking up and seeing those people… from my dream… and then…

"Jasper!" I gasped, speeding into an upright position. I looked down at the bed cover, my hands clenching it as my breathing became harsh. I blinked furiously as I tried to remember him as he stood before me. But the sensible part of me was telling me there was no way in fuck that I had seen him, because he was a figment of my imagination. My throat closed as I looked out the glass side of the room, out to the trees. What had really happened? Had I been sent somewhere? I looked around the room—this definitely wasn't a hospital…

So where the hell was I?

My throat closed up even more and tears stung my eyes. I opened my mouth to take a deep breath, but it was a struggle. My throat didn't seem to want to cooperate, my breath hitching unevenly as I struggled with even one inhalation.

I pushed the covers back and dug my legs out from under them. My eyes finally blurred as I lost control to the tears. My hand came up to cover my mouth and I began to quietly sob into it. Nothing was making sense, but there was no way—no _fucking _way—I had seen Jasper.

Obviously this had just been another dream. That was the only possible solution.

_So how did I get here? _I asked myself, and determination flooded through me as my focus realigned. That was what I needed to figure out now—why I was here, how I got here, and how the hell to get away.

I cleared my throat a few times, trying to loosen the tension, and wiped the tears away. I was just about to step out of the bed, when the door opened. Automatically, I looked up to see who was coming in and I gasped, blinking rapidly.

But then I gasped again, louder this time, as what I'd always thought of as dreams solidified and were added into my head just from the sight of him—my Jasper. That was when I—somehow, impossibly—understood what they were for the first time.

Memories.

Memories of a former life.

Jasper stopped just a few feet in from the doorway. His eyes were intently concentrated on me, and before I knew what I was doing, I had jumped up from the bed and was slowly making my way toward him. I couldn't speak the questions that were rapidly forming in my head; I couldn't speak at all, save for his name, which I whispered, so quietly I almost couldn't hear it myself, as I came to a stop just a few feet away from him.

To those who didn't know him—unlike myself—it would look as though his face was utterly devoid of emotion. His brow was straight, but I could see just the slight furrow of his brow—it told me he was curious, disbelieving but wanting so much to believe; battling with his happiness and relief. His lips were set carefully in a straight line, but I could see how nervous he was in the infinitesimal movement of his jaw, as it locked and unlocked.

He was always so good at faking emotion, at being unemotional in front of others. But he could never fool me.

My smile grew larger and I took a deep breath. "Even after all this time, I can _still _read you like a book, Whitlock."

That broke him, and he offered a smile, and a breathy chuckle. His posture relaxed in front of me, his jaw unlocking, his brow clearing as his small smile widened into a relaxed, happy one.

"You always could," he whispered, swallowing thickly. His brow furrowed again, his eyes looking pained. "How—"

"I don't know," I interrupted him with a shrug. "All I know is that I've dreamt of you every night since I could remember. I thought you were a figment of my imagination, even as you never left me while I grew older. You grew with me."

I stepped toward him and him toward me.

"But it's different now," he whispered, urging me. I sucked in a breath as the very tips of his fingers brushed against my hand, and I felt the whispers of the electricity that I could remember from my drea—_memories _of us together.

"Yeah," I whispered back. I had no idea why we were whispering, but this was such an intimate moment passing between us. "Now every dream I ever had of us together has solidified. They're crystal clear—as if they only occurred in the last few days rather than one hundred and fifty years ago. And there're more of them… I remember _everything _now, not just the dreams—_every single second of every single day of our lives together_."

We shared a smile, and he slowly reached up and cupped my face with both hands. We sighed together at the electricity, but his eyes were alight with a joy that I didn't understand—he knew something I didn't. I wanted to ask, but when I opened my mouth to ask, his eyes penetrated mine as he gazed with awe into them. "It's so strange… how familiar you are," he whispered, "and yet until I saw you in the cafeteria, I didn't know you. I had no recollection."

I found myself distracted by the beautiful, seductive lilt of his drawl. It still sounded like the silk I remembered it to be. I smiled and cupped my hands over his, and we sighed again.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, the pain in his eyes growing as his forehead creased and crumpled. "I'm so sorry I forgot you, darlin'."

I sobbed once, simultaneously smiling, at the sound of that pet name. I'd… I've always loved it. I went to stop him, but he continued. "I don't understand how I could forget you… Bella, baby, you were my—you _are _my everythin'." His frown deepened and he leaned his forehead against mine, sucking in a deep breath. His whisper was pained and even quieter when he asked, "How are you not angry at me? I can feel it—I can feel you. I can feel your love, your happiness, your relief, pain, sorrow. You're feelin' so much, but there's no anger. Why?"

He looked into my eyes, and I could see surprise in them when he saw no confusion reflecting back at him.

I chuckled, a smirk growing on my face. "Well, you always did know how to enrage a room full of people… but maybe that was just because I was there," I said with a wink. He chuckled and we shared a smile. Our relationship had been one that many had frowned upon, simply because we were in different social realms. Not something that was even thought about today, but back then… "And Jasper?" I asked, and he hummed questioningly. "Just because I ain't angry yet, doesn't mean I won't be once all this has sunk in." I raised an eyebrow at him. To be honest, I could feel myself calming down and starting to realize that this was all real, and once I was fully aware, I was sure to get angry at him for a lot of things that happened—hell, that caused our one hundred and fifty year separation, and him to live that out alone because of some of the decisions he had made without me.

He swallowed, and winced, probably feeling the rise in my anger. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.

I smiled despite my anger; he always used to say that when he knew I was angry at him. I saw a smile tugging at his lips, and cleared my throat, pushing my emotions back as best I could. "Good," I replied levelly.

Jasper looked at me for a moment longer, nodded once to himself, and said, "Well, I want you to meet my… _coven. _There are probably a few things we should talk about before you do."

I smiled. I had an inkling of what he was talking about. "Like the fact that you're a vampire?" I asked point-blank.

"Yes, among other things," he said, nodding, only for him to stop and do a double-take when my words sank in. His eyes grew wide, before promptly narrowing as he regarded me. "How do you know what I am?" he asked quietly.

I ignored his reaction, letting my smile grow. Internally, I was rolling my eyes. _My silly, silly husband, _I thought with a sigh. "I told you… I've had dreams of you my whole life, Jasper Whitlock. I didn't just dream of the two of us together, but what happened to you—and me—when you went to war, when that _bitch_," I spat the word, "changed you, and all of what happened after that up to when you met the Cullens."

"So… so you know everything?" he whispered hoarsely. He swallowed, looking down and turning his back to me. "And you still… you still want me? Want to know me?"

"Are you kidding me, Jasper Whitlock?" I muttered angrily. I walked around to stand in front of him. "Of course I still want to be with you, want to know you. For fuck's sake, Major, I love you like there's no fuckin' tomorrow."

He groaned, his lips twitching. "Still have that foul mouth'a yours," he drawled, letting the smirk playing on his lips win. His hands settled over my own on my hips, and he pulled me closer. There was a wicked sexy look in his honey-colored eyes.

I snorted, nodding, and brought my hands up to wrap around his neck. _Men… _or rather, _Jasper and his love for my foul mouth sayin' foul things. Of course he'd focus on that rather than the incredibly romantic words I said before that. _"That's not the only thing that's exactly the same." I winked, stepping closer. His eyes grew darker, and I loved it. So did he, apparently; he always had loved my libido. "When I was… _reborn _eighteen years ago_, _I was reborn exactly into the same body I had back then. Except obviously younger, considerin' I was a baby and had to grow up again."

His eyes grew wide again. "Y-You mean—"

I nodded and stepped even closer, pressing my front into him. I whispered, knowing exactly how good vampire hearing is and hoping his 'coven' wouldn't hear me when I said, "_exactly the same, _Jasper_."_

He groaned and leaned in closer. My heart stuttered as his slightly-parted lips descended toward mine, his forehead pressing against mine. But just as they were about to touch mine, his cool breath wandering across my face, he groaned, frustrated.

"Dammit," he hissed, leaning back again. "If the Cullens weren't downstairs, I'd kiss you senseless for calling me 'Major' alone," he growled. I licked my lips and swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

I held back a whine when I exhaled heavily. I backed out of his arms, turned around, and took a deep breath. "Right, well, uh… is there anything else we need to _discuss _before we go downstairs?"

There was silence.

A frown formed on my face, and only deepened as the silence lengthened. I spun on my heels, raising an eyebrow at him as I stepped closer again. "Jasper?"

He wasn't quite staring at me, but he was definitely holding something back. Even as I stepped directly into his eye line, his eyes bounced away from my form and toward the door from the room—his bedroom, I'd guess at a glance. It was definitely furnished in his tastes—simple, southern, light wood and angles everywhere; pictures of the south, too, and plenty of history books from the Civil War. I giggled as I spotted the oldest, thickest one which had plenty of sticky notes sticking from the top.

My husband always had liked the facts being straight and honest.

"Jasper, what is it? What don't you want to tell me?" I asked him. I reached up and cupped his face with both hands, pulling with all my useless might to make him face me. When he wouldn't cooperate, I growled, "Look at me, Whitlock." His eyes shot to my face, and I raised an eyebrow again. "Well? Whatever it is, you can tell me, baby."

His eyes softened at the pet name and he sighed, the tension in his shoulders and jaw relaxing. "Being vampires, relationships are a little different," he said, then snorted and shook his head. His hands reached up and threaded through his blond hair. It barely touched his shoulders. "A vampire only has one relationship with another," he interjected, glancing down at me, "that is in any way truly romantic. We call 'em mates. It's like a love at first sight thing; basically, they see each other and bam—instant connection—"

"And that's what we are?" I asked softly, interrupting him. He was babbling, which meant he was nervous. I smiled softly at the thought of my sweet, confident husband babbling nervously. He was a Major—a role he'd had in two different wars—and yet his little old wife could make him like this? I loved it.

He looked down at me for a few moments, not moving, and from the look of things, not breathing, either. "Yeah," he whispered, his eyes alight. "Yeah, we are."

A silly smile played on my lips, threatening to burst—just as I was with happiness—and I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I'm not surprised in the least." A little voice in my head screamed out though, and the smile on my face wavered as I remembered my parents. Yes, they might not be supernaturally matched, but they had always been so very in love in the 1860s; as close to a perfect match as you could get, and oh, so happy. But their upbringing this time had changed things—changed them. And thus their relationship had ended only twenty four months after it began.

"What is it?" Jasper asked me. "Why are you so sad and nervous?"

I blinked and looked up at him, swallowing. "H-How can we be sure?" I asked. "That we're mates, I mean. I-It's just that… this time 'round, my parents didn't exactly reach a happy ever after and I know they weren't 'mates' or whatever, but it wasn't because of circumstances _in _their relationship. It was because my mother had been brought up differently to how she had been back then, as had my father—their new upbringings had altered them… way too much for them to ever be compatible—at least in this life." I looked into Jasper's eyes as understanding slowly dawned on him the more my little speech sank in. He went to speak, but I shook my head and rested my fingers over his lips. "I-I just don't want to lose you. Not after dreaming of you—of us—for so long. And I don't want to get my hopes up only for them to be crushed."

His hands cupped my cheeks. "Isabella, shut the fuck up for me, okay?" he began and my lips twitched. _Obnoxious bastard. _"Darlin', first of all, I _know _we're mates because of this feeling," he pressed his palm just a little harder against my cheek, and the electricity between us surged to new heights, "you feel it?" He waited 'til I nodded before continuin'. "It's an instant sign that we're mates—and it's just one of 'em. But also, baby girl, think about it for a minute—why would you dream of me for all of your life only to find that we're not meant to be together? Somehow I don't think the fates are that cruel."

I shook my head. I didn't agree with that statement for a whole fucking range of reasons.

"But also, darlin'," he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. "With the memories I have, I can be absolutely positive that we would be meant for each other no matter what. But if you want proof to ease your mind, we have loads of it. There are logistics—certain aspects about mating that I need to tell you that would give you the answers you need, but I think it might be easier if Carlisle—the leader of this coven—lets us know about 'em. I never really paid attention when he or any of the others talked about them. He'll explain better than I can."

"Okay," I said softly. There was not a tense muscle in my body; there never was when I was with Jasper. It had always been like this—easy, simple, natural. "Well then, why don't we go down and meet the family—"

"Coven," Jasper interrupted strongly. "We may be a family for the public, and Carlisle and Esme—and some of the others—may think of us as a family, but in the vampire world that doesn't hold up. And I don't hold the same view; my parents died a long time ago. We're a _coven_," he repeated, emphasizing the word.

I giggled. "Okay then," I replied with a silly smile. "Let's go downstairs to meet the _coven_ and get those answers. How 'bout that?" He nodded. "But before we go, _is _there anything else to talk about?"

"Yes," he sighed, and he pulled me down to sit with him on the bed. "We need to think of something to tell the public about how we know each other."

"Shouldn't we include the others of your _coven _in this conversation?" I asked with a slight frown on my face. Surely this was a topic of conversation that the rest of them needed to be involved in.

"No," he smirked, "they already made a fuss of not knowing you at school, so that excludes them from this conversation _no matter how much they may want to insert their two cents_," he raised his voice a little, his tone more forceful; it was obvious he didn't mean those last words for me.

I felt a flutter of anxiety at the connotations of his words. Just how much strain was his family under due to these strange circumstances? I really did not want a repeat of my relationship with his parents.

"Okay," I breathed, biting my lip. I looked down at the space between us, the quilt on the bed, thinking. I racked my brain for an idea, when I thought of one; it was banking on the idea that Renée and Charlie weren't quite so observant as the average bear… or parent.

I looked up at Jasper to find him smiling at me, watching me quietly. I raised an eyebrow and he shook his head, reaching for my hand. He pushed his amusement, love, pride, and awe at me, making me smile. As always, I could understand him. But I chose to simply state my idea rather than comment on what he was thinking and feeling. "We could say that we met sometime a few years ago."

"What about the family?" he asked quietly. There was a slight frown on his face, but I could tell he was contemplating my idea, as the tips of his fingers caressed the back of my right hand. I shivered and drew in a slow but shaky breath.

"Maybe… I don't know." I shook my head and looked up at him. "What's your family's story about you all? When were you 'adopted'?"

He smirked. "Smart wifey," he drawled cheekily, and I smacked his arm with a snort. He pressed a wet kiss to my cheek before he grew serious once again, and I took that as my cue to do the same. His hand turned mine over so my palm was facing upwards and then he threaded his fingers through mine. "I was adopted a few years ago, apparently. I'm the latest addition to the family, also the oldest of them all. According to the public, the others were all taken in from the age's four to ten. I was taken in at the age of twelve."

I bit the inside of my cheek, nodding slowly as I thought for a few moments. We obviously had to have met before he was twelve, and right now, he was a senior, so he was most likely eighteen in the public's eye. I tried to rack my brain for times we could have met in the last ten years or so before it hit me, and a slow smile curved my lips.

"What?" he asked, reaching forward to brush my hair back from my face.

"Well, Renée is much more disinterested than Charlie seems to be, and considering he's the Chief of Police, it's obvious he's far more observant. So meeting when I was staying with him is out of the question. However…"

"Meetin' when you were with Renée is the way to go," he finished for me, "because she doesn't pay as much attention?"

I shook my head. "That's right, she doesn't. And when I was ten she sent me on a camp for a few weeks during school holidays."

"So you want to say we met there?" he asked, forehead creased.

I shrugged. "Obviously, it's not just my decision, but it would make sense—she wasn't around; I never told her about any of the other people who went and she never asked. Plus, a few weeks is a long time. Even someone as shy as me could have made a friend in that time."

"Did you?"

I shrugged. "I did, but I haven't spoken to her in years. I can't even remember her name."

He hummed in thought. "While that's a good idea, isn't it still a little strange for you to have met someone exactly the same as your imaginary friend? You obviously would have been much more vocal as a younger child."

I sighed. "I was, yes."

"Did you go to daycare when you were a child while your mother was workin'?" he asked and I nodded slowly, wondering where he was going with this. "So what if I was one of the kids that you met at daycare when you were younger?"

I thought for a moment, then frowned and shook my head. "One problem: I wouldn't remember you as easily now if that were the case; and we certainly wouldn't have instantly made the connection upon sight of one another."

"Well then, we met at the daycare and then met later at the camp as well," he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

I thought it over and then shrugged. "I suppose that will do, yes. I certainly wouldn't have spoken to Renée about it; we're not close enough and she's not interested anyway. Plus, her memory can be hazy sometimes so it would be easy to convince her that was the case. They might even think that you were a real person instead of an imaginary friend."

He nodded. "Then I think we should go with that option."

I smiled. "Okay then." I squeezed his hand.

He bit the insides of his cheeks to battle the smile playing on his lips. "Okay then." And then he jumped up, letting go of my hand for a second before taking it up in his again. He tugged a little and I got the message, getting up to stand at his side. "Should we go down now?"

I felt a small bout of nerves, but pushed it down with a deep breath. I nodded. "Yeah, okay."

His eyes softened and his voice was tender when he murmured, "It'll be fine, darlin'."

His arm curled around my waist and he pulled me along as he walked toward the door, pulled it open by the handle, and walked through. He led me down the stairs, staying in front of me, at which I huffed—I wasn't _that _clumsy; it was only when I was wearing those damn uncomfortable shoes we had to wear one hundred and fifty years ago.

I stopped at the foot of the stairs when it suddenly came to me that we were about to meet his _coven _and that in that _coven _would be strangers. And that, since Jasper was real, _other things _I'd thought I'd dreamed had also truly transpired.

I stopped cold, fear hitting me in the chest and knocking the breath out of me. Memories washed over me, clouding everything else, and I felt myself start to shake, my breathing speeding up and my sight becoming blurry. I was vaguely aware of it when Jasper, who'd already stopped immediately and turned around when I'd stopped, let his hands come to rest on my upper arms as he looked into my eyes, a frown on his face. "What is it?" he asked, his hands rubbing. I knew he could feel my worry, hesitation, and the overwhelming fear as well. He pulled me close, into his arms, and I sighed as my head came to rest on his chest close to his shoulder. My arms automatically wrapped around his waist.

"Please just do one thing for me," I whispered hoarsely, as quietly as I could, burrowing closer to him and pushing my face into his chest. I had the sudden mad desire to block out the rest of the world, and use my husband as a shield. Every time I blinked, the memories flashed behind my eyelids. All my senses were involved, Jasper's touch and voice feeling and sounding alien as I fell into the spiral of daunting, terrifying memories. He held me, his arms tightening around me.

"Anything," he whispered back just as quietly. He seemed to understand that I didn't want his coven hearing this conversation. I felt his lips pucker and press a kiss to my forehead. I took a deep breath, willing back the panicky tears that were welling in my eyes. I knew I wasn't doing a good job, when he tensed slightly and tightened his arms around me even further. He went to pull back to look at my face, but I held him as close to me as I could, as hard as I could. He got the message and stopped, letting his chin come to rest on the top of my head. His hands, now at my hips, wrapped around my waist, rubbed comfortingly.

"D-Don't let anyone touch me," I stuttered, my throat clawing painfully as it constricted. I could hardly breathe from how my chest felt from the building up of a sob. I blinked against the tears. "P-Please."

He waited a beat, and I squeezed my eyes shut as my emotions rocketed higher. I knew he was curious, but I really didn't want to tell him, and it was getting harder by the second as thoughts and images flashed in my head. It made my throat and chest constrict even more, and I only let out a breath when he replied.

"Okay."

His voice was so calm and level; it was a soothing balm to my worries and anxieties. His lips pressed softly but firmly to my forehead, lingering. He pulled back again, and this time, I let him. He cupped my cheeks and looked me dead in the eyes, his serious ones so sure and confident it calmed me even further. There was love there, too. "Okay," he repeated, nodding a few times. He pushed his love into me, and I gasped as I felt it, the tears welling in my eyes now happy ones. I looked up at him and smiled.

Sniffling, I whispered, "I love you, too, Jasper." He pressed kisses to my face then: my cheeks, my nose, my forehead, my temples—everywhere but my lips. We stayed there for a moment longer until we'd both calmed down, and then he pulled back with a sigh. I sighed as well, not wanting the moment to end… and not really wanting to face his fa—_coven_.

What if they reacted to me the same way his parents did a century and a half ago? It was that, ultimately, that sent me to an extremely early grave after all.

Fear welled inside me and Jasper immediately understood it, squeezing me tighter to him as he slowly walked toward the room that I supposed they were all gathered in. "Don't worry, darlin'," he said quietly. "I'm here. And their opinion of you does not matter in the slightest."

"It does to me," I whispered, looking up at them. "Your parents' reaction to our relationship was what ultimately destroyed us, Jasper—"

"No," he said back softly. "It was my decision to go to war without telling you. _That _is what ultimately destroyed us."

I shook my head. "Things happened after you left, Jasper. Mostly bad things—very bad things. And it was your mother who exacerbated them." I shut my mouth tight, not wanting to say more.

Thankfully—or perhaps, not so much so—at that moment, a woman's voice called out.

"Jasper? Why don't you come in and introduce us to your mate. We're all very excited, and we won't bite." Tinkling laughter rang out from the room and to our ears after she said that.

He sighed, looking toward the door then back at me. His eyes were full of questions, and my heart clenched a little. "Later," he muttered to me. "We'll continue this discussion later, Isabella."

I nodded, though I honestly had no such inclination for a long time. His eyes narrowed and then his eyebrow rose as he felt the flux of my emotions, but he sighed again and his arm tightened around my waist. "Come on," he drawled, "let's get this over with."

* * *

**So that's the end of the third chapter. Next one's a long one—shy of 8000 words, but not by much. ;) And that's a joyride, so make sure you strap yourselves in tight before you read it. **

_**RE: Replying to reviews with teasers—**_

**I had someone ask if I could send teasers to those who review. I responded that I could, but I wanted to get your opinion on that idea. If enough want it, then I will, but I'd be sending them out on Thursdays as that's when I post my teasers on Facebook—or at least, that's when I try to, LOL. The only sad thing is that you wouldn't get the pic tease that goes out on Fridays. **

**If you do say yes, then it should start this week, which means everyone who reviews will get a sneak peek. But only on Thursdays, remember. **

**That's it for now!**

**I hope you liked what you read… and please review—with your opinion!**

**Anyway… lemme know. :D**

**ncbexie25**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone!**

**HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY from Aussie!**

**PLEASE READ:**

**Sorry, this is gonna be a bit of a long one. **

**I sent out the first sneak peeks to all those who reviewed this week. From now on, anyone who reviews gets a teaser. They'll be sent out on Thursdays. :)**

**There was one reader who felt Jasper was misguided when it came to covens. Technically, they really are just a coven—family is a front for the public, even though some (mostly Esme, really) think of them as a family instead. Jasper's views are not actually something that will change, it's a part of him; you'll find this Jasper is a lot different from canon when it comes to his past… and how he feels about it as well. His craving for a family is completely gone. And you'll find when Jasper's history is explored more in depth just how different things for him are in this than they are from canon. **

**That was one thing I don't like about canon—his views on his own history, etc.—and it just so happened to come up in the character development process.**

**For this story, it is key that you don't assume that Bella and Jasper are like canon—they are vastly different on many, many points. That's part of me calming myself down for my first NC by making them really mine.**

**In fact, the way the Cullens all interact—with each other and with Bella—is quite different. From canon and certainly any of the fics I've read. I think Esme may surprise you, but the only way to understand why she acts the way she does—with at least some of the members—is to understand the mating connection. **

**This chapter goes into even more depth about a lot of things absent in canon and other fanfics. In particular, the mating connection. So keep your eyes peeled, because this chapter is super important for the story as a whole—understanding, enjoying, all that.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

* * *

The eyes of each member of the Cullen coven were on me as Jasper led me into the room and to a chair. He pulled it out for me and pushed me in, and I glanced up in thanks. He smiled down at me and then his hands came to rest on the back of the chair. When I looked up at the others before us, I saw something in them change and I knew that, for whatever reason, Jasper standing behind my chair was sending a clear message. What message it was, I had no idea.

"Isabella, is it?" the woman I didn't recognize asked. Her voice was different to the one who had spoken before, which surprised me. Considering the roles they were playing, she'd be the mother of the family. And she looked every bit the mother figure, too; her caramel curls were pulled back into a pony tail, and she was wearing a ratty pair of light blue jeans and a grey oversized sweatshirt, as if she had been spending the day cleaning. It was obvious in how the other five were dressed—and indeed Jasper—that this was not the family's usual style of dress. I nearly cringed as I thought of what I was wearing.

Behind her, a blond man—his hair lighter than my Jasper's, and quite a bit shorter—stood, his left arm wrapped around her waist as he looked questioningly at Jasper and ignored me. It was instantly obvious to me that this was Carlisle, the coven leader. They, besides Jasper, were the only two standing, the rest of the 'children' sitting as I was.

I cleared my throat, my heart sputtering nervously as I returned the look the woman was giving me. "Yes, it is," I replied quietly. The only thought running through my head as I tried to breathe deep and even was the hope that this would be infinitely better than when Jasper had brought me home to his parents. "And your name?"

She smiled widely, overjoyed. Something about her relaxed me, and I settled back into my chair as Jasper's hands came to rest on the tops of my shoulders, his fingers rubbing soothingly. "Esme, dear; Esme Cullen," she said warmly, and she reached forward and shook my hand gently. "And this is my mate and husband, Doctor Carlisle Cullen." She gestured to the man holding her.

His gaze broke from Jasper and he smiled pleasantly down at me, though I could see the questions in his eyes. "Bella. It's very nice to meet you. Forgive us our silence, and my rudeness. It's just been an eventful day."

"You're not kidding," I breathed before I could help it. I cleared my throat, my cheeks tinting red. "It's very nice to meet you, too. And might I say, it's nice to know you're a doctor. I might be needing your expertise every now and then."

Carlisle and Esme chuckled, but it was Jasper's snort from behind me that caught my attention. "Every now and then," he muttered disbelievingly. "My Bella is the clumsiest woman I've ever met," he informed his fa-_coven_.

I turned to look at him, stepping back from his grabby hands. "Am not!" I exclaimed indignantly, playfully, hands flying to my hips.

"Yes, you are, Isabella Whitlock," he said with a raised eyebrow, his own hands now on his hips.

"No, I am not, Jasper Whitlock," I replied. I raised an eyebrow at him. "And might I remind you of the cardinal rule of marriage?" He looked at me questioningly and I smirked. "The wife's always right. Learn and remember, husband."

He sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

"Don't worry, baby," I cooed cheekily. "You'll get there. I know it's been a while, but even an old man like you will be able to access your memory and wipe away a few cobwebs if it means pleasin' your wife."

I heard a few gasps behind me and froze. There was a beat of awkward silence as the others wordlessly looked on at us in shock. It made me realize that we were having this discussion in front of people I'd not even been introduced to or interacted with and I swallowed. It also made me realize that my 'old man' comment may or may not have offended the immortal vampires in the room.

Or maybe it had something to do with the hint of southern accent I'd neglected to keep under lock.

Jasper, behind me, squeezed my shoulders, and I looked up at him as he cleared his throat unnecessarily. As he looked at the others over my head, I turned to face them, still mortified. "These are my 'siblings,' if you will. You saw them earlier today at school." He gestured to Ice Queen and the buff man standing next to her. "This is Rosalie and her mate and husband, Emmett."

"Hi," I said, nodding once, looking at the both of them. Rosalie wouldn't look at me; her eyes were on Jasper, at whom she was glaring. Emmett glanced at her worriedly, before smiling down at me and giving a short wave. He did so quite discreetly, and I imagined it was to sneak it past his Rosalie.

I felt a burst of anxiety at the cool reception, but I calmed myself down. What else was I to expect, really? As Carlisle had said, today had been eventful for everyone involved.

I felt Jasper vibrating slightly behind me, and then saw Rosalie as she daintily sniffed, looked away from him, and settled back into her mate's side. Emmett's eyes flashed darkly as he gazed intently at Jasper. The vibrating stopped—though some part of me knew it was not because of Emmett's intimidating tactics—and a moment later, Jasper spoke again, gesturing to the couple who were standing to the left, beside Rosalie and Emmett. It was the pixie and bronze-haired man from earlier. "This is Alice, and her mate and husband, Edward."

"Nice to meet you," I whispered, nodding once to each of them again. Jasper reached down and grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers with mine and squeezing.

The girl, Alice, bounced and smiled at me. Then, before I could blink, she was in front of me and I was out of my chair. She hugged me close to her then leaned back a second later. I blinked, her quick movements giving me whiplash. She flitted back to her mate's side. "Hi, Bella! You and I are going to be great friends, I know it." She looked as though she wanted to say more, but her mate pulled her against him just as Esme and Carlisle cleared their throats, and Rosalie scoffed. Emmett just looked uncomfortable.

"Alice, your… excitement is making my wife nervous," Jasper said quietly. "Try and tone it down a little, okay?" His hand rested on my shoulder and he rubbed slow circles. For a moment, I felt apologetic, but that soon disappeared just as fast as it came. I immediately understood it as Jasper apologizing to me for not stopping her considering my wish. I reached up and squeezed his hand on my shoulder, letting mine rest over his.

She sighed and nodded. "Sorry," she said to me. "I know this is a little confusing."

"You got that right," I said, taking a deep breath, my cheeks puffing as I slowly let it out. "This morning I woke up thinking Jasper was a figment of my imagination. I wake up in this house after meeting him, and now have all these memories of us together one hundred and fifty years ago. Even though it feels right, it's still a little hard to grasp that I'm not as crazy as my parents seem to think I am." Left unsaid was how hard it was to grasp that everything that had happened in my former… _life_ was real… as it was to comprehend many other things.

Carlisle stole my attention then as he questioned me. "You said that you had dreams of Jasper?"

I nodded. "Yes, my whole life." I didn't go on to say more, because if they heard that then they knew what I'd dreamed of.

"Why are you so nervous?" Esme asked gently. She reached forward and patted the hand I'd rested on the table. "You have nothing to be nervous about."

"I'm sorry; I guess after meeting Jasper's parents and their, uh… _warm _reception, I was a little nervous about meeting you all," I confessed, half-lying (there were plenty other reasons why I was nervous), looking down at the hand Jasper was holding. He squeezed it. "I just don't want a repeat. As I'm sure you heard, in the end their dislike of me ruined my life—especially after Jasper went to war."

"Strange," Carlisle said, glancing at Jasper. "Knowing Jasper, I would have thought his parents to be very accommodating."

I snorted, and before I could help myself, I replied, "That's definitely not how I'd describe that boorish, obsequious ha—"

Jasper slapped his hand over my mouth. "Baby—"

"What?" I asked, perhaps a little too innocently. "One hundred and fifty years of pent up frustration. I guess it's gotten to me." I sat forward and winked at him with a smirk. He shook his head, chuckling.

I looked back at a shocked Carlisle and Esme, and blushed. "I'm sorry. That was awfully forward of me. I just hold a lot of resentment toward my late mother and father-in-law, and considering I died before I could face them with it and I never dreamed a lot about our encounters, it's just caught up to me again. Plus, I have a short temper and a bit of a foul mouth that I can't control in front of others."

"That's probably why Jasper's parents didn't like you so much," Rosalie inputted cordially, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. "That's hardly the type of girl they would have been used to back then."

My smile matched hers. "Yes, probably. That and the fact that I was apparently beneath them just because I was in lower middle class."

"Such a shame," she replied, her eyes narrowed. She was testing me, I knew it. "And to think, even today, your social standing would be a disappointment to them."

Jasper hissed when I stood up. My anger took over and I slipped in guarding my accent. "Don't you dare insult my parents! They are good people—good _workin' class people—_and I will _not _have their name smeared by the likes'a you."

"And nor will I," Jasper growled from behind me. His arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me back against him. "Nor will I have my _wife _questioned like she's the enemy. She is my mate and she deserves respect. If you can't treat her accordingly, I will take her and my things and leave this coven."

"Go right ahead," Rosalie sneered, leaning across the table, her palms pressed against the mahogany wood. Her eyes landed on me. "I don't trust you. I wouldn't trust you as far as I could throw you. I think the fact that you suddenly turn up, _human_, and claim to be the woman he married one hundred and fifty years ago—a woman he couldn't even _remember _until just a few hours ago, leaves a lot to be desired."

I cleared my throat before answering her, looking her dead in the eye. My accent was firmly locked behind a door. "Is that so? Well, I'm sorry you feel that way. But I allowed a lot of people to tell me how I should feel, and a lot of people lied about me, and I will not go through that again. It killed me the first time. So thank you very much, but I really don't give a damn what you say. My place is at my husband's side, and this time, I ain't letting him leave it."

"Bella—"

"Uh-uh, Jasper," I said, turning to face him. "I told you I was angry at you for a lot of reasons, and one of them is the fact that you left for the war without telling your wife. I should have known something was wrong—something was on the tip of your tongue the whole night before, but every time you looked like you were about to say it, you stopped yourself. And then the next morning, I wake up and find a note—a fucking note—where my husband should have been! Do you have any idea what you put me through? How devastated and scared and fucking angry I was?" He went to answer, but I shook my head. "No, you don't. Because you weren't there," I said furiously, stabbing him in the chest with my finger. "Sit down."

He opened his mouth to speak again. "No, Major. I. Said. Sit," I spat, pointing down at the chair I'd been sitting on. He sat down. I ignored the incredulous looks I saw on the others' faces as I turned around and glanced at them before I stood in front of him. I smirked; that's right, I could reduce the all-feared God of War to a little kid if I wanted. I blew a sharp breath out, my cheeks puffing. "Now, I was planning on doing this in private. However, I have some questions to ask you and I want the answers. Now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, looking down.

"Look at me," I said firmly and his head flew up, his eyes connecting with mine instantly. I smiled. "Good. Now, why did you leave?" I ignored the way my voice cracked on the last word, and his eyes darkened with sadness, though mine did, too, for the most part.

"I… I felt compelled, Bella," he whispered. "I can't even explain it to you."

I snorted, fuming. My arms crossed, I glared at him. "Yes, well,_ I_ suddenly feel _compelled_ to punch you in the face, Jasper. But you don't see _me_ giving in!"

"That's because that would be incredibly stupid and risky, Isabella."

"And going to war isn't?" I screeched. He and the others winced. "You could have died—you did, in fact. And I felt it when you did, Major Jasper Whitlock. I felt every single bit of it. Do you have any idea how helpless it made me feel? Knowing what you were going through—or at least partly, at that stage—and not being able to do a damn thing about it? If the pain hadn't killed me, that fact alone would have." I couldn't even see him anymore as the tears welled in my eyes, threatening to overflow. Then the sob that had been building broke loose and the tears spilled over.

He reached toward me. "Bella—"

"No," I growled, wiping the tears. "Don't touch me. I'm too mad at you right now. Fuck that, I'm too _furious _with you right now. Just answer the question, Whitlock."

"Darlin', I didn't want to leave you, but somethin' pulled me into that war," he quietly but passionately replied. I looked away as his eyes beseeched me. "And looking at you now, I think, honestly, that it was the mating connection. I'm not clear on a lot of the facts, but there's evidence that some people are meant to be vampires, and they get pulled unwittingly into situations where they are faced with the danger of being changed. Just like I was."

I took a deep breath. "Then why would you forget me?"

"Perhaps I can explain that, Isabella," Carlisle interjected, and I glanced at him.

I nodded. "Okay. If you don't mind though, I'd just like to ask my _husband _a few more questions before we talk about this mating business." I turned back to Jasper. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

"Because you wouldn't have let me go—"

I interrupted him. "Damn right I wouldn't have!"

"—and all I knew was that I needed to get involved, Bella. Until I saw you a few hours ago, I never understood the compulsion. But I honestly believe that I needed to go to war, be changed by Maria, and go through everything I have to find you again." He looked at me and I sighed, looking down.

"So, you love me then?" I asked him in a small voice.

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled in a sweet whisper, pushing his love at me. I gasped, a smile settling on my face as it surrounded me, filling me with warmth. This time, when he went to touch me, I let him. I relaxed into his touch for the first time since we entered the room, no longer battling with my anger. His hands cupped my cheek, and he leaned in close, his head cocked to the side as he looked into my eyes, holding the gaze seriously. "You know that I do, Isabella Whitlock," he drawled.

I shivered as he moved in closer. A strange purring sound erupted from his chest when I let out a shaky breath, and he inhaled deeply. His lips were, for the third time today, almost on mine when we were interrupted… again.

He chuckled as I pouted and turned to face Carlisle, who smiled uncomfortably. "Sorry to the both of you, but we still have a lot to talk about." He glanced at Jasper then looked at me again. "Would you like to discuss the mating connection now?"

Jasper and I shared a look, and his arms wrapped around me and held me securely to his front as I nodded. "Yes, please." Jasper pulled me back and sat down on the chair he'd been sitting in before, then pulled me down onto his lap. My hands rested over his across my middle.

"Before we go into anything, I would like to ask you, Bella, what your connection to Jasper was like when you both were human?" Carlisle prodded gently.

I let out a breath. "Easy," I answered with a smile. "Jasper and I always had an… interesting connection, though it only developed when we got older. Funnily enough, we lived across the road from one another, so as much as his parents tried to avoid mine, we practically knew each other from birth. We were friends for years, practically inseparable, and then one day in the fields of his family property, I kissed him." I rolled my eyes at the memory, smiling. "I was fifteen, he was seventeen. We didn't know what we were doing, so when I pulled back, I lost all composure. I'd done it without thinking, really. We'd gone out for a walk, and it was raining, and back then, if you got sick with pneumonia, more often than not, ya died. So, stupidly, I ran away, ignoring him as he called after me."

"I was stunned," Jasper continued for me. "I'd liked her for some time, loved her even. And then suddenly, outta the blue, she's kissin' me. So imagine my surprise when she runs for the hills. I think we were both thinking that we'd just accosted one another." He chuckled. I nodded in agreement, suppressing laughter of my own, a large grin stretched across my face.

"I got lost." Jasper laughed and I glared playfully at him. He grabbed my hand as it swung out to slap him in the chest. "Shut up, you. It was your fault." I didn't stop as he let out an indignant, laughing 'what?' "It was Jasper's family's property, and Jasper's parents seldom allowed me onto it, even though back then we were harmless friends. I think all along they were worried that it would grow into more, as we only really interacted with one another.

"Jasper found me a few hours later, when it had grown dark. I started crying and I told him how I felt about him—that I loved him, and that I had for a long while, but I'd been worried about how his parents would react, so I never told him. I'd thought it would be impossible for us to build a life together when his parents hated my family so." I chuckled, my throat closing. "Imagine my surprise when he wraps his arms around me and kisses me for all I'm worth." I sniffled and wiped the tears from my eyes, flashes of that memory running in the back of my mind. "I was even more shocked when he said to me 'I've loved you for the longest time, Bella Swan. But don't you _ever _run away from me again.'" I looked up at my husband as I tried impersonating him, something I did quite well, especially with the accent and lilt of his voice.

"We laughed," he said, glancing their way before looking back at me. I knew from one glance into his eyes that he was feeling the exact same way as I was, that he was remembering the exact same things I was. "We couldn't believe how stupid we'd been, hiding behind our worries about our parents' reactions—or rather _my _parents' reactions."

Unsaid was how we let our heads fall back to look up at the sky… and how Jasper, after givin' me his Stetson and jacket, carried me back to his house.

"And how did they react?" Edward asked quietly.

I glanced at him, and there was a slight smile on his face, but he was still gripping his mate tightly. I could tell he was as worried as Rosalie was, but he was being much more polite about it, and more reserved in any contempt he might have.

"We kept our relationship a secret for a while," I replied, looking down at Jasper's arms wrapped around my waist, and my hands resting over them. "We were concerned that if we told them too early on, they'd try something. And we really just wanted to have our own time to figure out what our relationship meant, how deep it was, how we got on with one another in that way. The following year, in late '61, Jasper asked my parents' permission to court me. We told his parents after that, and to their objections, a few months after that, we married."

I looked back at Jasper over my shoulder. "It was the happiest of my life."

The right side of his lips pulled up his cheek into a lopsided smile, and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Mine, too," he whispered into my ear and my eyes slid closed. I shivered from the cold of his breath and the tone of his voice, sweet and tender as ever.

Carlisle's voice was quiet when he spoke again. I could tell he didn't want to intrude on the moment we were having. "May I ask for more detail on how you felt about one another in your relationship? You said your connection to one another was interesting—what exactly did you mean by that, if you don't mind me asking?"

I answered. "Sometimes he… would look at me and I'd just be able to _feel _him. Feel what he was feeling." I opened my eyes, my smile drooping as I looked up at Jasper. My next words were directly for and to him. "I missed that."

He held our gaze, and for a few moments we simply looked at one another. It was almost as if he was looking into my soul and I into his. And as always, it was beautiful. I knew, from this small interaction, everything he was feeling. And there was so much—pain, regret, love, need, possessiveness, protectiveness…

And then… and then the air around us began to change. It thickened. My eyes widened as Jasper's darkened and that was when I felt it. Felt him. Felt his emotions seep into me… oh, so slowly. I could feel them as if they were my true emotions.

I choked on a gasp, biting hard on my lip. I refused to look away from him, even as tears welled and stung my eyes. He liked that. His black eyes glinted as his upper lip curled over his teeth in a feral way, a way that made me lick my bottom lip then run my teeth over it. A low, sexy growl emitted from his chest and my throat ran dry when I swallowed. I rubbed my lips together.

The air was so fucking thick, so charged. My breathing was shallow—short gasps… pants, really. I leaned toward him, unable to stop myself, and he did the same. A powerful force—a magnetic force—was tugging me toward him. Guiding me. I was powerless to it. It was something I knew well, but had felt only the whispery beginnings of as a human. It was so much stronger now. I realized it was him. I realized I needed it, needed him.

"Jasper," I whispered. He was so close now. Centimeters. Fucking _centimeters_ away. I could feel his breath on me and my tongue snuck out of my mouth to lick my lip again. I nearly moaned, impatient now. He tasted amazing—like oranges, sunshine, and fucking _home_, Texas. I wanted more. Now. I moved to close that final distance…

"Okay!" was boomed from across the room. I jumped and looked toward the sound. And just like that the moment was forgotten, the charged energy dropped.

I wanted to whine, but I wasn't a whiny childish bitch. Well, not that much. And I preferred to kiss my husband—especially in such charged, intimate conditions—in private, thank you very much; preferably where we _couldn't _be interrupted.

Carlisle cleared his throat, and I let out a small sigh before turning back to him. Jasper rubbed soothing circles on my abdomen over the clothing and pushed some calm into me. I was already getting rather used to his gift.

"Right, well, I think for now we should go over the aspects of the mating connection," he said. We nodded when he glanced at us, and he nodded to himself before continuing. "First of all, the mating bond does not start until both have been born and the two have met, and as you know from your memories when you were both human, it can start when the couple is human. However, it is extremely rare for the mated pair to meet when both are.

"The fact that it can start when both are human and have met, though as I said, it's rare, has connotations of fate—"

"—and I believe that is why I felt compelled to go to war," Jasper interjected, glancing at Carlisle before turning to look at me. "So I could meet Maria and she could change me. Mating is a ritual completely unique to vampires, so for us to have exhibited signs of mating—as many other humans who have later become vampires also have—means that we must have been fated for this life; for something greater than mere human-human connection."

"Then why would you forget me?" I asked him.

"Were you alive when the pain you said you felt as Jasper died stopped?" Carlisle asked me. I looked at him and shook my head. "I didn't think so. Mates can sense one another emotionally, physically, and to an extent, mentally. Though I've never heard of a female in the relationship sensing the male's transformation; the only cases we know of are usually the male sensing the female's transformation.

"For instance, we know that Emmett felt Rosalie's transformation and that he suffered the pain from it. It nearly killed him. I believe when you died, the memories were somehow blocked from Jasper's mind. A mate's death is very painful, and a vampire would never survive it."

"And he needed to survive it," I continued in a whisper. "So he could meet me right here, one hundred and fifty years later."

Carlisle nodded. "Yes, I believe so."

"And so his memories were blocked from him so he wouldn't feel that pain, so that he wouldn't know. So he wouldn't die from losing me, and doom both our souls."

"Yes," Carlisle answered quietly.

"But why would it take so long for me to be reborn?" I questioned, looking up at Jasper.

He shrugged, but then thought about it for a moment. "I was in those wars for seventy years, Bella, until the early thirties. That's when Charlotte and Peter—I assume you dreamed of them as well?" I nodded. "Well, that's when they got me out of there. I stayed with them for ten years, but they were nomads back then; they moved constantly, though now they have a base in Texas. Eventually, they pointed me in the direction of the Cullens. With them, I still didn't change my diet from human blood until the late nineties, around the time you were to be conceived." He stopped for a moment and chuckled, shaking his head. "That rat bastard."

"What?"

"Peter called me up and told me to change my diet. Said he didn't know why, but he had a feelin' that I needed to." We laughed. "I guess changing my diet meant I could be ready for you, in control of myself more, able to handle having you in my life again." He winked and I giggled, smacking lightly at his chest. I was not _that _difficult.

Carlisle frowned. "It's definitely possible, but vampires are unable to hurt their mates in any way. They feel no bloodlust whatsoever for their human mate and a vampire's enhanced strength is instinctually modified, as are any and all aspects of vampire physiology that may be a threat or detriment to the mate's health. Therefore, even a newborn would be able to change their mate without any struggle at all, as Rosalie was able, only a few years after her change, to do so with Emmett."

"Well then, perhaps it was because she wouldn't be found in a dangerous environment?" Jasper proposed. "I know for a fact that in the years beforehand there were some dangers that would impact our finding one another again."

I cleared my throat as they shared a look. Something was bugging me. "Um, you said beforehand that you hadn't heard of a female sensing the male's transformation, but that Emmett had sensed Rosalie's?" he nodded. "Is it just the transformation that can be sensed?" My heart pounded in my chest as I awaited his answer.

He cleared his throat, glancing at the mated couple in question somewhat uncomfortably… probably because Rosalie was glaring at him. Esme glared right back at her, momentarily shocking me with her hostility. Carlisle cleared his throat again and stepped forward so he was directly in the way of both of them. Esme relaxed as his arm tightened around her. "Um, no, it is not. The female sends out signals to their mates when they're in danger, too far away from one another, or they sense their mate near and have not previously met—that's the physical, emotional, and mental sensory I spoke briefly of before. It causes an abrupt pain in the male's chest. For unmated vampires, it is the telling sign that they'll meet their mate soon—the pull is too much for them not to follow, as in Edward's case when he followed after Alice when she was still human. You can speak to them more about that, however." He glanced at them, as did I, and Alice nodded kindly.

Jasper stiffened around me and I turned to him. "What is it?" I asked, taking in the way his eyes were searching my face.

"I felt that a few nights before I was changed," he whispered, eyes black. "It couldn't have been because we were too far from one another or I would have been feeling it the whole time since I left. Which I was, but this was more painful."

I swallowed, my heart pounding painfully as I remembered what happened at the time he must have felt that. A moment of silent communication ran through us—he understood that I knew what he was talking about, that something had happened but that I was not going to tell him anything, and I understood that he would leave it for now, but would make it his business to find out what happened.

I stared into his eyes, my own wide with panic at just the thought of him finding out what happened. I sniffled and tried to breathe in, but it was hitching. He frowned slightly, and in the next second, that purring sound vibrated from his chest again, and I closed my eyes and sighed as the tension that had settled into me from his words disappeared. I relaxed into him and felt his lips on my cheek and then again as they ghosted up my temple to my forehead.

"I remember feeling pain after you left as well—constantly," I whispered, keeping my eyes closed. "And even though I was dead for one hundred and fifty years, I still felt it. My soul literally ached each and every day. I remember feeling that way for that long, clear as day. It got worse once I was born again, and I had my imaginary friend Jasper. I wanted so desperately for you to be real, not realizing you were; it was only when I saw you in the cafeteria a few hours ago that I started healing from that pain."

"Same for me," Jasper whispered back. I felt his lips on my forehead again and smiled; he always had loved pressing kisses to my skin whenever he could for whatever reason. "Even though I didn't know you… didn't remember you… I still felt the pain and the emptiness."

I smiled sadly and leaned in, kissing his cheek. My lips itched to touch against his, but I wanted our first kiss in over a century to be in private. "But I'm here now, and we're together. You won't be alone again, Jasper."

He smiled. "And neither will you, darlin'."

I smiled back at him, resting my forehead against his for a few moments before I turned to Carlisle. "So from all you've said, it's inevitable that I will be changed into a vampire at some point. How does that work?"

"I'll change you," Jasper growled, his arms tightening around my middle.

"That is true, of course," Carlisle added. "Due to a mate's instincts, no other can change a vampire's human mate, and mated vampires do not tolerate their mate changing another human, as to vampires, scent is the basis of everything—it is how we choose our prey, how we sense danger, and of course, part of how we find our mates. Plus, there are traces of a vampire's scent in their venom, and this will override the human's scent, altering it to smell somewhat like the 'maker' if you will. However, a vampire mate's venom overrides that of the original maker's, masking their scent and thus, if the maker was mated, it relaxes the maker's mate as they will no longer sense another vampire's scent infused with their mates."

He glanced at Esme, who was staring at Rosalie, a surprisingly cold look on her face. She looked away quickly when she sensed my eyes on her, and smiled down rather cordially at me. She wrapped Carlisle's arm around her, glancing at Rosalie once more as she did so in a very animalistic and instinctual show of possession.

Carlisle glanced between them then pressed a kiss to Esme's temple. She relaxed into him and he sighed, relieved, before he turned his attention back to me. "Smelling your scent mixed with that of your mate's soothes the instincts, and notifies other vampires that you are taken. This, in turn, acts as a balm to a mates' great desire to mark one another, which is an act of loving possession but also one of protection." He gestured to us. "Your instance is a perfect example. Jasper is among the most feared in our world, and others knowing that you are his mate will protect you from volatile vampires. They will not want to endure your mate's wrath."

There was a silence for a few moments as his words rang out through the room. It was spent with no eyes from one person meeting the eyes of another, only broken when Rosalie snorted. "This is ridiculous," she said strongly. She then looked down at me, her jaw locked, eyes cold. "What do you like to do, Bella? Hobbies, I mean."

My eyes narrowed at her question, and I knew she wasn't asking to get to know me better. Jasper tensed around me and growled at her, but I ran my fingers lightly over the back of his hand and answered her anyhow. "I knit, I sew, I mend, I spin and card wool, and I cook," I began shortly and then I sighed. "I also sing, compose, and write songs and music for various instruments for the instrumentals of those songs. I read a lot, too, and—"

"What are you favorite books?" she pressed.

I shook my head, incredulous. "I know what this is about, Rosalie. But I'll be the bigger person and answer your questions rather than make a big deal out of things." I raised my eyebrow pointedly and she sneered. "I've read Emily and Charlotte Brontё, in particular Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre. The latter I am currently re-reading. I've read a number of Shakespeare's plays as well. However, my favorite author is Jane Austen, in particular her works Pride and Prejudice and Northanger Abbey."

"And have you read any modern novels, or are all of them hundreds of years old?" she asked sarcastically.

I snorted. "Of course I have, but I thought you wanted the short list. If you wish to know all of the books I have read, I can tell you, but we will be sitting here for some time as I have read more than most my age in _both _lifetimes." I smirked, my head cocked to the side as I lifted an eyebrow questioningly. If she was going to be a bitch, I'd serve it to her just as good, but nowhere near as inappropriately. Two could play this fool's game.

"Hmm," she harrumphed. She stared at me, her eyes glaring through me, but I returned her look, something she didn't seem to be expecting if the slight widening of her eyes were any indication. "And apart from _the obvious_, why exactly did Jasper's parents dislike you?"

I sighed. "I have no idea. Jasper's mother never made the reasons behind her contempt for me apparent, even though she was much more vocal than his father. He, for the most part, ignored me."

She studied me for a moment before crossing her arms over her chest. "What happened to drive you out of your hometown?" she asked and I stiffened. I'd had no idea that they'd heard every word that had passed between Jasper and I when we were upstairs. I considered that conversation quite private. And besides, that was not a question I would be answering.

Thankfully, I didn't have to. At my tensing, Jasper hissed angrily at Rosalie and tightened his arms around me at the same time as Alice also glared at her as well. I glanced at Edward and saw him frowning down at Alice, worried, then looking at me curiously.

I was shocked by Alice's reaction. She had said before that we would be friends, but surely there was another reason for her reaction. Jasper obviously felt my confusion, because he leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Alice has visions of the future. She has probably seen the two of you talking at length and becoming close friends, and so she is very protective of you even now. And Edward is worried. He has the ability to read minds, and is perplexed by the new memories I have. He, like other mated vampires—including me—is very worried about the safety of his mate, and he does not like being in the dark, or not knowing something when it comes to our family. Give him time; once you get to know him, I am positive you will find each other's company very nice."

I frowned. So she has visions of the future, but surely there is another reason. I watched her still as she glared at Rosalie. She was such a… well, a spitfire for someone her height. But then a thought occurred to me as I remembered Jasper's exact words. He'd said she'd probably seen us 'talking at length.'

My heart sputtered as I realized the implication of his words. Did that mean she… she _knew_? It would definitely explain her reaction to Rosalie's fairly innocent question.

Alice looked at me then, and she nodded ever so slightly. But that wasn't what got me—it was the look in her eyes.

Pity.

Sorrow.

It made me feel sick. I didn't deserve such emotions being felt toward me—not after what happened after Jasper left.

The memories of the time after he left for the war up to my run from town flashed behind my eyelids every time I blinked, and I took in a deep breath, pressing my clenched fist to my mouth.

I stood up and the tension in the room broke somewhat, though it was not the same for the tension inside of me. I looked at Rosalie, and despite how I was feeling, I glared at her. "You have no idea what you are talking about, so I suggest _kindly _that you be quiet and stop asking questions. Thank you.

"If you want proof that I am who I say I am, and that my memories are real, why don't you ask Edward?" I said, jerking my chin toward the bronze-haired vampire in question. "He can read minds after all. I'm sure if the memories were in any way fabricated, he'd be able to see they were." I looked toward him when I said that and was met with his thoughtful gaze.

He looked at Jasper. After a few minutes of tense silence, he grinned, though he was still a little guarded. "She is right. I never thought of that before, but their memories are as clear as day. I can't see anything strange about them." He looked at me and winked. "Don't worry about Rosalie. I'll talk to her." Rosalie scoffed and he turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Do you doubt my ability, Sister?" he asked coolly, sassily raising an eyebrow at her.

She huffed and glared at me.

I smirked. "Okay, Rosalie. Now I try not to embarrass my husband, but you leave me no choice." I looked over my shoulder at Jasper, who was also smirking, and bit my lip. He wouldn't be like that after I finished saying what I was about to.

"Jasper would usually be the one to wake me up, and in a very pleasurable way, too," I said with a wink. I heard Jasper choke behind me and bit back a giggle. "After a romp between the sheets, unless we'd run ourselves ragged as we did sometimes, in which case we'd go back to sleep for a little while, I'd get up to cook breakfast. Jasper would bathe—he liked to do so in the mornings, but I preferred to do it at night, you see, so I'd already be... well, mostly clean." I added in a wink as Jasper cleared his throat and hissed my name in a strained voice. I ignored him. "After breakfast, Jasper would leave to work on his parents' ranch for the day, mostly trainin', breedin' and sellin' horses, but also doing handy work, too. He's very good with his hands," I purred with a smirk.

"Killin' me," Jasper choked from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder. "Sorry, darlin'. I'll be with you in a moment, okay? You can punish me later." I winked and he let out a strained groan. I turned back to Rosalie, who wasn't lookin' at me anymore. "Just to keep things interesting, I had an alternating schedule for my own housework while he was out. On Monday, I washed the sheets. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday I washed the clothes. Every day, I'd do a little cleaning and dusting around the house, and then on Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday—unless Jasper needed them urgently—I'd mend, knit, spin and card wool and all that. If he _did _need somethin' done urgently, then I'd swap that day's work out with another's."

I paused and tried to remember the rest of it. "Depending how much time I had on my hands, I'd either read or knit or do any of the other hobbies I mentioned before in my spare time. Jasper came back from his parent's property at around four, unless his mother was able to keep him there for an extra hour. She liked to try that. At six we ate dinner. We'd sit together for the next few hours, and sometimes Jasper would bathe with me before bed. And I'm sure even your brain can rack up what we did next," I added saucily with a wink tacked on for good measure. "Satisfied, or do you want more details?" I asked, wincing slightly as I realized the southern twang that had once again rung out as I'd spoken.

_I really need to get a handle on that._

Rosalie, and the others, were all looking rather uncomfortable. None of them were looking in my direction, something I wanted to giggle at but thankfully managed to keep from doing. After a few moments of silence, I asked with a smirk in my voice, "Well?"

She huffed and looked out the window. She did not respond verbally.

"Okay then," I said evenly, nodding, very satisfied with myself.

"You need to go home now," Alice said suddenly. I looked over at her quickly with wide eyes, only to find her own unblinking and dazed.

"Vision," Jasper whispered in my ear and I nodded.

Alice blinked slowly and then looked at me again, smiling. "If you want to avoid a search party coming after you, you need to go home and meet your father. He's extremely worried, especially considering you were adamant about walking to and from school."

I sighed, closing my eyes in frustration; it definitely was annoying having a parent who cared. "And you're probably right. Charlie is definitely likely to do something like that." I turned around to Jasper, who was already standing up. He reached forward for my hand, which I put in his, and then I turned toward his coven again. "Thank you very much, everyone. It was lovely to meet you all. I hope to see you again soon."

They all nodded except for Rosalie, who snorted and shook her head. I ignored her.

"Bye, Bella!" Alice exclaimed, waving her hand with a large grin on her face. Edward chuckled beside her and wrapped a restraining arm around her midsection, making her stop bouncing on the spot.

He winked at me. "As I said, I'll speak to Rosalie. She can be a bitch to people she feels threatened by, especially those outside our family and, ironically enough, humans. Not to worry; I'll straighten her out."

I grinned at him and nodded once. "Thank you very much."

He shook his head, looking down at his mate with tender eyes, and looked back at me. "Thank you," he mouthed. I instantly understood what he meant.

"Not to worry," I repeated his words from earlier. He smiled.

"Let's get goin', darlin'," Jasper whispered in my ear, pecking my temple as his arm around my waist tugged.

He pulled me along with him as we walked out of the room, and I waved at everyone once more as we walked through the door. As soon as we were out of the room, I let out a huge breath in relief and looked up at Jasper. He grinned down at me then continued to lead me out to the car.

_Well, that went better than I expected, _I thought with another sigh of relief_. _

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**You may notice that Bella's language will become a little less stiff and sophisticated as we go on. Don't get me wrong—it'll still be sophisticated, but because her two sides/lives have now blended, I suppose, she'll be more comfortable within herself (and with Jasper). This is how she acts around Jasper, with whom she can be completely herself and free. Stiff-sophisticated Bella, whom you'll probably see in the future, is a mechanism she uses because she knows that others keep away from weird 'freaks' as she's been called in the past. But also, it was also because she wasn't comfortable within herself because of her irreconcilable dream-self (a life she actually wanted) and her 'freak,' 'outcast' 'real-life' self which is misunderstood.**

**Not much else to say to be honest. Just hope you had fun reading this chapter and that you liked it. **

**I also want to say again to all the mothers: Happy Mother's Day!**

**Please review (you know you'll get a teaser in a few short days!),**

**ncbexie25**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone!**

**Welcome to this week's chapter. Thank you for your continued support and interest. I was so nervous when I first put this up that no one would read it, but you are! :)**

**We just have a short one this time around. Unlike with the third chapter, there was really nothing I could possibly write when I went through it quickly for a second time to make it longer. But don't worry because in the 20-something chapters I have planned so far, this is the only one that's gonna be this longer. The others are sure to be longer like the previous chapters have been.**

**Thanks to all the usual people; Chandrakanta, Alicia, Danielle and Jennifer. You have no idea how much they've helped and continue to help! It's simply legendary.**

**Not much else to say here... just enjoy it and I'll see you down below! ;)**

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**CHAPTER 5**

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Unlike the silences back at the Cullen house, this one was much more comfortable. Over the console, Jasper's right hand's fingers were laced with the ones from my left hand. Jasper had not spoken a word since we'd gotten into the car and driven away from the house, and I found myself watching him, wondering what was on his mind.

My husband was a very thoughtful man. He'd always been a thinker, and I guess like enhanced senses and strength, his habits were also more developed than they'd been when he was a human. It was an interesting prospect, and one I found exciting as it gave me an opportunity to learn something new about my man.

I smiled to myself as I settled my attention back onto him. The sight before me was one I'd seen many a time before. If he wasn't driving, his right hand would be clutching his right thigh, and the other clenched into a fist, his chin leaning on it or sometimes resting on the arm chair. He'd be staring blankly but still somehow hard ahead of him, unblinkingly, his breathing slow and even. He'd be settled into his chair, his right leg crossed over the left. His jaw set, his brow furrowed.

As it was, right now, he was settled into his chair, staring hard in front of him as he drove. His jaw was set, his brow furrowed. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

The more I looked at him, the more my curiosity got the better of me. I opened my mouth when it became too much to ask him, and he chuckled, finally looking at me. "Out with it," he drawled smoothly, smirking, eyebrow raised.

I shrugged, blushing under his gaze, turning to look ahead of us at the dark and empty road. "I was just wondering what you were thinking so hard about."

He shook his head as he looked at me again, but then he sighed, his smile fading. "It's nuthin'."

My eyebrows raised as I stared at him, curiosity fluxing again. "Well, considerin' you look like you're constipated, I'm guessin' it's not 'nuthin'.' So out with it," I drawled, repeating his words from before.

He chuckled then sighed, a wistful smile on his face. "That," he said quietly.

I frowned. "What?"

"Nuthin'," he said, glancing at me and sighing again at the look on my face. "I don't want to offend my wife."

"Consider her already offended, Jasper," I said quietly. "Now, I'll say it only one more time before I set you up downstairs on the couch, considerin' how much I _know _you'll want to stay with me while I sleep. Out with it." He said nothing and I sighed, squeezing his hand. "Jasper, you can tell me anything. And you know, I might die of curiosity, so please—_tell me_," I pleaded.

"I miss your accent," he confessed in a voice just above a whisper. My heart twinged and I breathed in sharply.

I almost let it out right then, but for the reason I'd kept it locked up for years, I held it back. "What are you talking about?" I asked carefully.

He sighed. "I heard it, darlin'," he said firmly, looking at me. His hopeful honey-colored eyes killed me. "I heard that sexy southern drawl a'yours earlier in the cafeteria—and time and again this afternoon. And I wanna know why you're hidin' it from me—from y'_husband_." He stressed the word, his voice still quiet, but I could hear the frustration. "I wanna know what's happened to make you hide yourself behind this—this façade."

I swallowed tightly and cleared my throat, suppressing the much more recent memories from the years of teasing I'd received as a younger child, and the way my parents would stiffen and quiet me down whenever I spoke. "It's nothing," I whispered.

He sighed harshly and shook his head. He let go of my hand and gripped the steering wheel, and I swallowed again. It hurt to lie to him, and some part of me knew it was silly—stupid, even—but it was a defense mechanism I'd had in place for years. It was a tough habit to break.

What was even worse was hurting Jasper, and frustrating him. He was my husband and my mate. But I was also relieved when he didn't bring it up again, even though I knew it was only a matter of time before he would bring it up again and refuse to drop it.

Jasper was a very persuasive man, and I could never keep things from him for long, something that both thrilled and terrified me—now more than ever.

There was silence in the car all the way until we pulled up outside Charlie's house. Jasper looked out the window, wound down the window, and then turned to me. "Your father's waiting on the doorstep. He's worried. You might want to get out quickly and start explaining before he gets to say anything—he's bottling enough to blow once he starts."

I sighed and cursed, opening the door and quickly getting out. I ran up to the doorstep without sparing a glance for Jasper. I cursed again when I stopped in front of Charlie as he sat on the doorstep, looking up at me. From the redness of his face, and the raised eyebrow, I could tell he was angry. His jaw was clenched, too, so I took my chance.

"I'm so sorry, C-Dad," I stuttered out quickly. "I fainted at school and hit my head, and Jasper," I gestured quickly behind me, knowing Jasper was walking up to us as Charlie's eyes had fallen on him when the car door had slammed shut, "took me to his father, Doctor Cullen. He took me to his house 'cause his father didn't have a shift today."

Jasper jumped in when Charlie went to say something. "Bella was out for longer than we thought she would be and when she woke up we wanted her to eat somethin', but my father gave her a clean bill of health. Provided she doesn't have any of the symptoms he briefed her about, she should be fine."

Charlie sighed harshly and looked suspiciously between the two of us before standing up. His face was slowly coming back to a much more normal hue, and his jaw wasn't locked anymore, his eyes not glaring angrily but looking instead. "All right," he said evenly, hands on his hips. He tongued the inside of his cheek as he studied me for a little longer. "I would have liked it if you'd have called me, but I guess you would have been busy. Are you okay now?"

I nodded jerkily.

He sighed again. "Good," he replied, relaxing. He turned to Jasper, who was now standing at my side. "Thank you for looking after my daughter. Jasper, was it?"

"Yes, sir," Jasper replied with a nod, and they shook hands.

"Well, it's been a long day, and you two have school tomorrow, so…" He looked at me pointedly and I nodded. He turned around and went back inside.

I turned to speak to Jasper again, but he'd already headed toward his car. "Jasper," I whispered, knowing he'd hear me.

He stopped, sighed as he looked down at the pavement, and then turned. He quickly walked up to me, and I could see the lines of tension and frustration in his face. "I better go. See ya."

It hurt to see him so closed off, but that was always how Jasper dealt with his anger—at least when it was held toward me. But I also understood him—right now I was breaking the no secrets philosophy we'd had since the first kiss fiasco. I shook my head to expel my thoughts and took a deep breath. "Yep," I muttered under my breath, looking down at the cement beneath my feet before peeking up at him. He was looking down at me, not moving, and I stepped forward, looking around quickly and inside to make sure my father wasn't looking, before I wrapped my arms around him. He relaxed after a moment and wrapped his arms around me.

"I love you, Jasper," I whispered, clenching my eyes shut and pressing my face into his chest. "Please just give me time."

My heart clenched when he let go of me and stepped back, but it thudded when his fingers cupped my chin and pulled my head up toward his face. I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me. He nodded once, a small smile on his face. His voice was quiet, soft, gentle, when he spoke. "I love you, too, Bella. And that's all I needed to hear." The tone of his voice on those last few words tacked on the 'for now' in his reply.

He kissed my forehead and then stepped back. "I gotta go," he repeated. "I'll be back later."

I nodded and then watched as he turned and walked quickly to his car. He glanced up at me, grinned, and gave a small wave as he opened the door and hopped in. I watched as he started the car and quickly drove off, sighing as his car reached the corner and turned out of sight. The age old ache in my chest grew again, and I swallowed, rubbing at it.

It made the pain even more acute knowing he was driving away angry with me. But one thought of trying to tell him about my accent, and the things that had happened both in this life and after he'd left for the war in my last that led to me 'hiding my true self' and keeping secrets from him, and my chest tightened. Tears welled in my eyes as I remembered the things that had been said to me, the threats against my life and Jasper's, and how, after _that _had happened, Jasper wouldn't want me.

As much as I'd tried not to let those words get to me, they had. Fear nearly killed me at the thought of how Jasper could react when I told him everything.

"Bells, are you coming in or what?" Charlie called out over the sounds of the television, pulling me from my thoughts.

I clenched my eyes closed, wiping the tears that spilled, and sniffled. Clearing my throat and breathing in and out slow and deep, I turned around and walked back inside. I turned in quickly to the living room to see Charlie on the couch watching the news, and as I walked toward the archway leading into the kitchen, I said, "I'll go make dinner now. Should be ready in half an hour." I walked straight into the kitchen and to the fridge.

"Don't bother," Charlie said from the doorway and I turned to face him. "I bought pizza," he said, gesturing to the table in the middle of the kitchen I hadn't even glanced at. Sure enough, there was a pizza box sitting on the table.

I frowned. "Don't do that too often," I said seriously, "I can cook and I want to. I'd rather we didn't eat that stuff every night—it's not good for you, and you need good nutrition and healthy food for a job like yours." I raised an eyebrow and he huffed, but nodded.

"Okay, fine," he grumbled.

"Do you want to eat it here or in front of the T.V.?" I asked him, hiding my smirk at his petulance.

"Well, there's a game starting soon, and I'd like to watch it, so can we eat it in there? If you don't mind?" he requested, scratching his head and not meeting my eye.

I smiled. "That's fine, Dad. I'll bring the plates and cups out, you go and sit down. Do you want cutlery?"

He shook his head. "Thanks, Bells." Then he turned around and walked back over to sit in front of the T.V. in his armchair.

"No problem," I replied under my breath, turning to grab what we needed. I managed to bring it all out when I balanced the pizza on the plates, but I had to walk through very slowly. Once I was in there, I quickly crouched to put it on the table, and Charlie looked up.

"Sorry, Bells, you should have called me," he said, grabbing the pizza and plates and putting them down on the coffee table quickly. "I'll go get the drinks. What do you want?"

"Uh, just a water, thanks," I said, shooting him a smile, and he ran off to get them, grabbing our glasses from my hands. I sat down on the sofa and opened up the pizza box, getting out two pieces for me and three for him and putting them on our plates. He came back in just as I settled back into the lounger, and put the water down in front of me, grabbing his own plate and settling into his chair.

We ate in silence. Charlie ended up having a few more pieces, but I found that while I was kind of hungry, my appetite had vanished. I was getting more and more tired and miserable the longer I tried to concentrate on the T.V., and I knew it was because I was missing Jasper.

Just when I was about to get up and excuse myself, Charlie turned to me, muting the television. I looked at him expectantly and waited.

He cleared his throat. "So that, uh, Jasper boy—he a friend of yours?"

My eyes widened, and I forced myself to swallow against the tightening in my throat. Then I remembered what Jasper and I had discussed and I relaxed. "Yes, actually. We've met before, when we were both younger."

"Oh," was all he could reply with for a time. Then his eyes narrowed. "So why'd he go to all the trouble of taking you to his father?" he questioned. He didn't believe me; I could tell from the disbelieving tone of his voice, and the cocked eyebrow.

"I…" I sighed harshly, shrugging. "I fainted, Dad, and I hit my head. And since we recognized each other from a camp we went on together when we were ten, he was concerned. He took me to see his father to make sure I was okay."

"Okay…" He trailed off, almost as if he was unwilling to let the conversation end there.

"What?"

"Well… it's just that… he looks kind of like how you used to describe that imaginary friend of yours," he said awkwardly, his cheeks reddening as he looked away, back toward the television. "And he has the same name. I dunno, I mean, I know it's impossible for him to be your imaginary friend… and I guess I just wanted to make sure you knew that as well. I know you've had a rough time, but just because some boy shares the same characteristics, accent, and name," he listed them off slowly, almost as if he was just realizing what all Jasper_ did_ have in common with 'imaginary' Jasper. He cleared his throat. "Anyway," he continued gruffly after a moment, "just because he shares… all that, doesn't mean you should let your guard down. I just…" he huffed, "I want you to be careful, Bells. The Cullens are fairly new in town, and I don't want to risk you getting hurt by people I don't know too well."

My eyes were wide by the time he finished his little spiel. When he looked at me again, I quickly snapped my mouth shut and nodded. "Okay," I said simply, at a loss as to what else there _was _to say. To be honest, I was more than just a little surprised he remembered that many details about 'imaginary Jasper'.

He eyed me for a few seconds, sighed, and then nodded to himself. "Good," was all he said, and then he grabbed the remote and unmuted the television, ending the conversation.

I sat there for a little longer with him, just so I didn't seem rude. When I really couldn't handle it anymore, I sighed quietly to myself, got up, and quickly sad goodnight to Charlie. Before he could ask if I was okay, I told him it had been a crazy day and I was tired and just needed to sleep. I bent down to get the plates and cups, but he stopped me. He told me to leave the stuff here and that he'd pack it away; I nodded and walked upstairs without complaint, too tired and mopey to argue.

I fully intended on curling up on my bed, hugging my pillow and falling to sleep, but when I stepped into my room and sat down on the bed, I was itching to compose—a spark that hadn't flowed through me for a while. I opened the second drawer of my bedside table and got out the book labeled 'COMPOSITIONS—GUITAR'. I smiled and opened up to pages tabbed with a pink sticky note jutting out the side. On the tab, and at the top of the first page, I'd written 'Please Stay'.

I flipped through the pages slowly, humming what I had for the guitar part so far and making corrections to bits that sounded hazy. I couldn't wait to get my hands on my guitar when it finally arrived so I could play this song and all the others out, preferably in front of Jasper. I went back once I reached the end and hummed the notes I had in my head for the lyrics, and as always, I didn't need to make any alterations to the words or syllables.

Tears welled in my eyes as I went through it a second time. Not having Jasper here at the moment, particularly while he was angry with me, made it feel as though he was going to war all over again. This song was about my wish for him to stay and how we had no idea, considering the risks, if he'd come back again. I could see the slight, though not nearly as serious, connotations from the lyrics about the situation back then to the one ahead of me right now. I resolved to tell him everything and soon—as soon as I could emotionally and mentally manage.

I stayed up for a while longer, and it was only when I couldn't see straight that I put the composition book back into the drawer and put the pen on the bedside table. Pulling back the sheets and climbing in between them, I pulled them up and against my chest. Despite the pain in my heart, I soon succumbed to how tired I was and fell asleep.

It was a short time later that I half-woke only to feel the pain disappearing, the electricity kicking in again, thrumming evenly and calmingly. Someone—Jasper, I instinctively knew—cold but somehow warm climbed in between the sheets, pulling on a really warm additional layer between us and then tucking it around me.

With a sigh, I settled back into him as he spooned me and fell quickly back to sleep with the sensation of my husband's lips at my temple.

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**And that is the end of a very trying day. I think it alone was like 20 thousand words or something. *Shakes head* Crazy.**

**That's not the norm, just so you know. ;)**

**Well, I would love to know what you thought of it... so please tell me in a review and we'll see you next week! :) Don't forget to keep asking those questions!**

**Thanks,**

**ncbexie25**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone,**

**I'm not quite sure about this chapter. It's the first one so far with this story that I'm not confident about. I tried re-writing it, but it only got worse so this is what you're stuck with… Let me know if you think it's any good.**

**I also didn't mean for it to be so long, but I don't actually think you'll be complaining. ;) I wouldn't get used to chapters quite this long, though...**

**I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE SNEAK-PEEKS. I completely forgot-I've been so busy this week. To pay for it, I'll give you an extra long one.**

**Thanks to the usual team, and to all you readers, reviewers, favourite-rs and alerters for your ongoing support. You have no idea how much it means to me! :)**

**Enjoy and I'll see you down the bottom...**

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**CHAPTER 6**

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The dimmed light in my eyes woke me up. I was so tired because of yesterday—though I couldn't remember what it was that had happened to make me feel this way. I didn't want to wake up, and my forehead crumpled in protest. I rolled onto my stomach to bury my face in the pillows and block the sun, only to burrow my face into something much harder, colder and somehow toned… and it was beneath me.

It took a moment for everything to register as I felt the back of my head throb, and I groaned at the pain. "Ow," I moaned, reaching back awkwardly to feel for a bump. I hissed when the tips of my fingers did indeed graze against one.

_What the hell happened to me yesterday? _I moaned internally.

The floodgates opened and a tsunami of memories flowed quickly into my head, making my head both spin and throb once more.

Despite the headache the onset was causing, I still did nothing else but grin.

I snuggled further into the bed with the grin on my face only widening. But as icy arms wrapped around me and tugged me closer, my eyes flew open and I squeaked as I flew back. Jasper quickly let me go.

I flew back so fast that I lost balance, and before I knew it, I was falling backwards and off the bed. I landed on my back, and bumped my head a little only to hear a smooth, amused chuckle from the bed. I huffed, eyes narrowing as I sat up and rubbed the back of my head. As soon as my husband was in eye line, my eyes narrowed even further and an eyebrow raised. I stood up slowly and rolled my shoulders, yawning again so forcefully my eyes closed as I lifted my arms above my head.

The chuckle abruptly stopped, and was replaced by the rumble of the sexiest growl I've ever heard. I opened my eyes slowly, a smile stretching on my face, but I was slightly unprepared for the sight before me: Jasper, his hair, shirt untucked and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the first few buttons undone… and his eyes black as night.

The absolute lust in his eyes, and the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed slowly made me gasp, blush and bite my lip. As I closed my eyes, Jasper's face flashed behind my eyelids, numerous other times he'd looked at me with the same hungry expression on his face playing out one after the other in my thoughts. Those memories of course lead to others, and I was surprisingly relaxed when I heard Jasper inhale deeply just as I felt myself clench, my panties dampen. The growl, still low and rumbly, transformed yet again into a low, seductive purr and I opened my eyes just in time to see him lick his lips. My own parted as I did the same, watching him as he watched me.

The charged, electric tension between us was becoming too much, and I whimpered as he smirked at me upon inhaling again. My nipples pebbled, my body aching for him.

But once again we were interrupted. Just as I was about to move toward him, his eyes widened. A muted "shit" left his lips before he disappeared into thin air. I blinked, still slow to comprehend due to how tired I was. I understood a few moments later when the door opened.

"Bells, you all right there? I thought I heard you fall?" Charlie said from behind me. I could hear the muted amusement in his voice, a slight breathiness in his voice alluding to his suppression of laughter. I closed my eyes in utter mortification and exasperation, wanting nothing more than to kick something. All I wanted was some time alone with my husband but that was obviously far too much to ask.

I spun on my heels, catching myself by gripping the sheets of the bed as I stumbled. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat, but I ignored his reaction and forced the best smile I could manage to grace my lips. "I'm fine, thanks," I mumbled, blushing tomato red. "Just fell out of bed… probably rolled over. I'm used to a bigger bed," I carried on when his concern won out against his amusement.

"All right," he mumbled, nodding awkwardly. He turned and closed the door behind him, and I sighed as I heard him trudge down the stairs.

I turned around to see where Jasper went, opening my mouth to whisper his name. I hoped he hadn't flown the coop as soon as he heard my father. I wasn't quite finished with him yet. As it so happened, I spun right into his arms, which steadied me as I bumped into him. His cool arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer to him, and I didn't even flinch—a strange, but yet very lovely feeling of surety and safety coming over me, even with how unusual it was. I simply smiled, sighing contentedly, letting my head rest on his chest as I wrapped my own arms around him. I felt his chin rest on the top of my head and my smile widened. I loved it when he did that; it felt like he was surrounding me completely.

"Hello you," I whispered, turning my head to look up at him.

The side of his lips turned up. "Hello yourself," he drawled in a whisper. His left hand came up from the small of my back and pressed against the back of my head, right over where the bump was still throbbing.

"Thank you," I said quietly, leaning back into his hand.

"Not to worry," he said, leaning back and glancing down at me. "You've become good at lying," he commented lightly, but I could hear the curiosity and suspicion in his voice, feel it in his slightly tensed muscles and the way his arms tightened around me.

I stiffened, frowned, and stepped back and out of his arms. Completely ignoring him, I turned and started to make the bed. Glancing back at him to see him watching me silently, a frown on his own face, I shrugged and sat on the bed. I could see he wanted to say something, but I got to thinking as I stared at the bed spread, and it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't dreamed of anything last night.

A thought I shared immediately with Jasper.

I looked up at him. His eyes were wide with shock, but also far away, thoughtful. His mouth was screwed shut. "Is it possible that could be because there's nothing for you to dream of?" he asked quietly.

I wanted to say no, but I closed my mouth and seriously thought for a moment. I was positive I didn't have every dream I could have possibly had of memories of the two of us in my short lifetime, but as I searched my memories, I was surprised—albeit pleasantly—to find that my memories were gapless. Where before there had been minimal detail and only snippets of moments, with gaps between each event, there were now complete and whole memories. They were themselves clearer than they had been, no longer dreams but now actual, concrete memories. I truly could remember every single thing that had ever happened—small details, even, small little nothings—and it surprised me just how much I hadn't known yet.

It actually felt as if I had really, truly lived what I'd dreamed. It was now officially a part of me… and more than that, I no longer felt so lost within myself. Sure, it was still hard to balance the Isabella from one hundred and fifty years previous and the modern, adapted Isabella from today. But now there was a harmony between them. They had melded into one, united.

I was finally happy in my life. Looking at Jasper, I was finally—for the first time in this life—feeling confident and like _myself_. Something that only Jasper had ever brought out of me. And I knew he felt the change inside of me as it occurred, because he smiled warmly, kissed my forehead, and whispered, "I'm glad you're happy."

My throat tightened. I so longed to speak to him, tell him everything that was running through my mind, and he seemed to sense that as well as we looked into one another's eyes, for he hushed me quickly. Once more, he pulled me toward him, his arms wrapped around me just as they had been minutes before. My eyes closed for a brief moment, my mind closing to all thought until I heard the door slam below.

Awareness came to me and I opened my eyes and turned my head, eyes searching for my clock on the bedside table.

"Oh, shit!" I hissed, and I quickly wrenched myself back, disentangling myself from Jasper's arms yet again this morning.

"What is it?" he asked as I raced to the pile of clothes I'd laid out for today. Thankfully, I'd packed my book bag again last night.

I rolled my eyes as turned to wordlessly point at the clock. His own eyes widened as he realized what time it was, and he, too, muttered a cuss under his breath. He quickly righted his clothes and ran a hand through his hair, finishing just as I passed him to grab my bag. He grabbed me and pulled me sharply into his arms, planting a passionate, sweet, yet demanding kiss on my lips. The kind of kiss that always left me breathless and wanting, and always made him smirk when he let me go.

Which he did, as always, much too soon, and then he backed away from me with a lazy smirk, toward the window, and his hand gripped it as he winked and tipped his imaginary hat. He disappeared out the window in the blink of an eye. The whole exchange only seconds long.

"Damn you, Jasper," I muttered under my breath, panting lightly from the kiss. I flopped down onto the bed with a groan.

_That man will be the death of me._

**~*O*~**

After recovering with a firm plan to get that sexy husband of mine back, I sped through getting dressed and rushed down the stairs—nearly slipping to my death twice along the way. I rushed through breakfast, gulping down mouthfuls of bland cereal as I eyed last night's pizza box, plates and glasses on the coffee table in the lounge room.

When I was done, I washed up then looked out the window to see if Jasper was there yet. He wasn't, but I was startled to see a rusty red truck in the driveway. This must have been the car Dad had said he'd be getting me. I racked my brain trying to remember if it had been there last night, but to be honest, I really couldn't be sure; that wasn't what I'd been focused on.

With a large grin on my face, I grabbed my jacket and went outside to get a better look at it. Everything froze up as the cold air struck me and a disgruntled scowl erupted on my face. "Fuck, I miss Texan heat," I muttered to myself with a pout. I shivered, unsurprised that I was so cold despite the parka. It felt like I was in the fuckin' Arctic.

I kept my eyes on the truck as I walked carefully over to it, my eyes on the ground as I tried to figure out the best path. I was sincerely hopin' the ice didn't get worse than this, because if it did, then I could already foresee bad things happening. I gripped the handle as soon as I reached it, hissing at the icy-cold temperature before I rolled my eyes at myself and gripped it even harder. I was going to have to get used to the cold, considerin' Jasper's natural body temperature now.

For some reason, though, the coolness coming off my husband was far different to this.

_A fucking Chevrolet, _I thought to myself, my grin widening. _Thank you, Daddy!_

I walked carefully and slowly around the truck, taking in all its features. I wanted to open the door and hop in but I hadn't picked up the keys yet. I took a glance at my watch and swore under my breath; it was later than I thought it was. I glanced around then quickly made a break for the door and ran back inside. I got my book bag and then looked around for the keys, finally descending the stairs to continue the search, only to find them in the most obvious of places—in the key bowl on the table near the door.

I flicked my forehead, rolling my eyes at myself. I glanced around once more to make sure everything was in place and then looked through my book bag to double check that I had everything I needed. When I was sure I did, I opened the door again, locking it the way Charlie had shown me. I turned around and kept my eyes once again on the ground to make sure I didn't slip, only glancing up when I had a firm grip on the door handle.

My heart thudded in my chest.

"Fuck," I breathed, my mouth running dry as I took in the unbelievably sexy sight before me. All I could do was gaze at my husband as he sat astride a black motorbike, all leathered up and sinful. "Praise the Lord, oh, Jesus Christ."

I was officially out of control when it came to my verbal filter. The only way I knew I'd said that aloud was when I saw Jasper's lips twitch and then the cock of his eyebrow over his sunglasses as he held my stare. My eyes wandered down his leather jacket to the blue jeans that covered his legs, and I squeezed my legs together as a burst of desire flashed through me.

_Damn, but how I wanted to be that motorbike._

He smirked at me and finally gave up, seeming to understand I was having a little trouble here. He beckoned me with a crooked finger and I almost dropped my keys as I started half-out of my funk. I swallowed, feeling like a giddy little high school girl with her first crush as my eyes widened and I pointed to myself, muttering "me?"

He threw his head back in laughter and nodded, wordlessly beckoning me again.

I squealed and chuckled at myself at the same time, running toward him in a moment of complete balance before I slipped quickly onto the bike behind him. I breathed in and sighed in content, wrapping my arms tightly around him and huddling into his body. I couldn't help but be aroused by the feel of his hard planes against me and the coolness even between the layers. For all that I hated of the cold, I was addicted to Jasper's cold skin already.

Jasper, being the empath he was, could obviously feel just how I felt about all this. With a delicious smirk on his face, he glanced back to say something. But the sultry look in his eyes and the sensation of Jasper's coldness with the heat of the thrumming bike between my legs was too much and I caught his lips with mine in another fierce and passionate kiss. His right arm wrapped around my waist and he tugged me against him, twisting on the seat. I squealed against his lips as he pulled me up and off the back of the seat, pulling me down onto his lap. I moaned at the increased cold sensation, the feel of his hard skin and his length against me as he settled me right down on top of him. I moaned as he rocked me just a little—so slight I wasn't sure if it was an action he'd meant to make or not—against him, my hands coming up and threading through his hair. I turned my head to deepen the kiss, but he moved back and broke away.

We panted. I looked at him, confused and I had to admit a little hurt. He cupped my cheeks and kissed me. His lips were urgent, insistent, on mine, as if he was trying to prove something. I whimpered at the passion, the fire he'd always kissed me with. This was the most amazing kiss I could ever recall sharing with Jasper. This was the most amazing feeling ever. But dammit, I wanted _more_. Bucking lightly against him and turning my head again, I tried to show him.

Thankfully, he understood this time and I groaned when he didn't stop kissing me. The fire grew larger, hotter, as he swiped his tongue against my bottom lip. I gasped at how odd the coldness of it was and just as he always had, he took that as an opportunity, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. The sexiest moan I'd ever heard erupted from his mouth.

His kisses grew harder, sweeter, more insistent, more passionate. He bucked against me in uneven rhythm, eliciting a breathy moan from me each time. On the third time, his own desire shot through me, electrifying the blood in my veins and I moaned loud. He answered with a groan.

I had no idea how long we'd been kissing for, but it was the sweetest torture being human. I needed air, but I needed Jasper. But finally he slowed his kisses, lowered the passion, and I felt his love for me slowly seep into me through his gift as he did so, before he finally broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine, our mouths gaping as we panted and shook and held one another.

I opened my eyes. "Hi, baby," I breathed with a slow, leisurely smile.

He growled under his breath, licked his lips and said, "Hi, darlin'." His voice was gritty as it always was in these moments and I loved it.

"I think," I said, taking a deep breath and resting my arms on his shoulders, my hands playing with the hair on the back of his head. I looked him in the eyes. "I think you need to get me to school cowboy."

He chuckled low and sexy. "Yes, ma'am," he drawled in his rough tenor. He had the manliness that seemed to lack in both the kids and school and the other vampires I could see. He settled me behind him and looked back at me with a raised eyebrow and a sexy, lopsided grin. "Hang on tight, baby girl."

I squealed as he tore off, gunning the engine as we raced down the street. Despite the wet of the streets, I trusted Jasper as the ride was smooth and invigorating. Oh, if we'd had this sort of speed in the 1860s!

We were at school in no time. I was upset at the thought of separation from Jasper during class, but he surprised me with a grin as he wordlessly handed over his schedule. I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow but looked down anyhow, a grin stretching quick across my face as I read the obviously amended timetable. I squealed, looked back up at my husband, and jumped into his arms. He chuckled, a smile lighting up his face, his eyes shining as he wrapped his arms around my waist. He looked at me like he wanted to kiss me again, but settled for a peck to my forehead—to both our obvious disappointment.

"You really think I wanna spend more time away from you than I absolutely have to?" he asked with a knowing smirk. I was bursting with happiness, my cheeks and jaw hurting from smiling so much.

"Guess not," I breathed. I reached for his hand and he chuckled as I gripped it hard and tugged. "Come on. Better get to class then." We reached my locker when I spun around, a thought occurring to me. "Wait a second; how the hell did you make those changes?"

He chuckled. "I was wonderin' when you'd ask me that. Alice stayed back and changed it for me with Mrs. Cope. Apparently we were extremely lucky; in English and Government there was only one more spot left."

I had a stupid grin on my face. "I love you," I said quietly, glancing around us, worried a little that someone may have heard. Jasper slowly settled calm into me and I sighed as he cupped my cheek.

"Ditto," he whispered. "You've no idea how much."

I giggled and whispered, "I think I do, actually." I pressed my hand against his heart. "I feel it."

He wanted to say more—fuck, so did I—but the bell rang and we separated with matching sighs. I quickly opened my locker and emptied a few things from my bag to make it easier to carry around then shut it. I turned suddenly, unsure of what to do. My hand was aching to hold his, but I knew that wasn't appropriate; not yet.

"Settle, baby girl," Jasper said sweetly, "your heart's flyin'."

I nodded jerkily, biting my lip as an awkward tension rose between us as we slowly started making our way toward the English building. I groaned at the memory of last lesson with Mr. Mason and Jessica. Even if we were in the same class, we wouldn't be sitting together, I was sure. Though perhaps we had a chance if we got there before Mason.

"Jasper—"

"We'll get there before him, don't worry," he assured me, "and we'll sit together, down the back."

"Wha… how?"

"You may be able to read me, baby, but remember I could always read you." He winked at me.

My heart thudded. At one point that would have elated me; now I really wasn't sure how I felt.

We reached the class, indeed getting there before the teacher. Unfortunately, our problem was an unanticipated one; it seemed we weren't the only ones who'd thought of beating Mr. Mason at his own game of control.

"Bella!" I heard shouted by two soprano female voices as soon as I entered the room. That was soon shadowed by the two comically audible gasps as Jasper followed behind me. I pressed my lips together, my brow furrowing in frustration. These two were the last people I wanted to deal with today.

Jasper sent me courage and confidence, and I looked up at the two girls. "Hello, Jessica, Lauren," I said with a nod of greeting to each.

"Uh… hi," Jessica replied, eyes wide and locked onto my husband's form. Lauren was the same, her mouth gaping open like a fish. I struggled with the predatory part of me that wished more than anything to rip their eyes out of their skulls. I could feel my mate's small amount of discomfort from their stares. I knew he felt that they were gaping at a glimpse of his scars—it was a constant worry of his.

"What are you doing in this class, Jasper?" Lauren asked suddenly, finally gaining her voice back as the rest of the class and lastly Mr. Mason filtered through the door. He took in Jasper's form with a blank face, and I idly wondered if that was his personality. Frightfully, he reminded me of Jasper's mother.

_Hag._

Thankfully, my husband was saved from Lauren by Mr. Mason. "Yes, Mr. Whitlock, just what _are_ you doing in my class?"

Jasper cleared his throat, and turned toward the odious man. "I have changed my mind about what I want to do when I go to university, and a few of my classes have been changed. Thus my schedule was shuffled yesterday afternoon."

"Hm," the man replied shortly. He glanced at me, and then at Jasper. "Very well then." He turned to the rest of the class. "We are working in groups of four today. I would like you to sort yourselves into groups with the pair in front or behind you. If you must, work with the people to your side as well." He turned back toward us. "The two of you can work with Miss. Mallory and Miss. Stanley."

I was positive at the idea that he was some sort of hellion sent to trouble the lives of students and make them miserable.

"Yes, sir," we both replied.

Slowly, we walked to where the duo were already sitting, their eyes watching our every move and glance toward one another. From the vindictive smiles on their faces, I could tell this would be a most interesting hour.

To our credit, Jasper and I really did valiantly try to work on the project Mr. Mason had set for us. Jessica and Lauren, however, were too busy watching and surely analyzing us for us to be able to get any quality work done.

Finally, half-way through the lesson, Lauren dropped pretenses. "So you are two together?" she asked with no preamble.

My heart skipped and I glanced at Jasper, feeling him automatically send tranquility my way before his smooth voice replied, "Yes, we are."

They huffed. "Lucky bitch," Lauren ground out, glaring my way. "How the fuck did you manage to get him to agree to go out with you so fast?" Left unsaid was her jealousy at my seemingly effortless acquisition of Jasper, whereas she and many others had been trying for months.

I could not help but smirk, opening my mouth to reply. Jasper, however, beat me to it, probably sensing the ire bubbling and sizzling within me, and knowing the outcome. "I asked her." He gave me a sweet, reassuring smile, buffering it up with a taste of the love he held in his heart for me. I sighed and sent it all back to him and more, causing him to gasp. I smiled.

The tender moment was broken by Jessica's nasal voice, colored by offensive shock, disbelief and incredulity. "But… why?" she asked. I was sure I heard Lauren snort, and I knew from the way Jasper's jaw locked that she had whispered something unsavory to her friend.

I, on the other hand, was incredibly offended. Secretly, I knew that wasn't quite it—it was more that I really agreed with her. If Jasper knew... if he _knew… _oh, I could doubt very much that he would want me any longer.

"_Nothing. You are nothing. You deserve this, and I'll make sure everyone knows it, Isabella _Whitlock_."_

I flinched out of the memory, blinking rapidly as my eyes came back into focus. I was shaking slightly, and tears were welling in my eyes. I was surprised when I didn't flinch, did not even let out a whimper, as Jasper, sensing my struggles from my emotions and my state, drew me into his arms, kissed my forehead, and emitted a very low purring growl—one of anger, of protection, and of comfort.

Vaguely, I could hear him as he spoke so low that no one could hear his words but I. I heard his sweet, Texan accent as he purred in my ear that he loved me, that I was worth it, worth everything he has been through in his long years of existence since his transformation. He repeated these words a few times, and I felt a slow building love grow inside me—it registered that he was expressing his love for me the best he could: with his ability. I then felt his anger inside me, so sharp I did not believe he knew he was projected it on me, as he turned toward the vapid girls in front of us.

"I asked her to be with me because she is an extraordinarily loving and beautiful young woman, with the utmost grace and dignity"—I barely withheld my snort at his words; oh, how wrong my husband really was on this point—"and though it is absolutely none of your business, Bella and I have met before and as I grew older our time together has stayed with me and my feelings grew. So of course I would jump at the chance to be with her now that she is here and our time together does not seem so limited as it was previously."

It was for my benefit, I knew, when Jasper projected the girls' jealously. For our sakes, they plastered fake smiles on their faces and aww'd at how utterly "cute" that was.

Soon enough, the class was finished. Mr. Mason informed us that that was the only class we would have on that project, and I heard the girls behind us complain loudly. Jasper and I rolled our eyes and shared a smirk as we gathered our things and walked together to our next shared class—_American History_.

The teacher was also surprised to see Jasper, and he replied with the same when asked what he was doing in the class. We sat together, and groaned as the teacher introduced the new topic was.

"_Civil war—from both perspectives."_

Jasper snorted at that, shaking his head with his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his chair, slouching. I raised an eyebrow, glancing at him, amused. "Damn Yankees never get anything right… prejudiced fuckers."

I pursed my lips to trap the giggle that was making my lips twitch. Feeling my amusement and excitement, Jasper looked at me with a raised eyebrow of his own. I shrugged my shoulders sheepishly. What could I say? I was quite excited now for this topic with Jasper; it would certainly be an interesting school experience.

The rest of that lesson continued in much the same manner. Every mistake made, Jasper growled at and muttered under his breath about. I had to remind him several times that there were others in the class who might be able to hear him and that he should just be patient and complain after class. He only stopped when I promised him I would avidly listen to any and all complaints he had after school, and that there were a few things that I wished to share my opinion on, but at least I was keeping mine for the appropriate time.

Soon enough, only two hours later after that class ended, we were finally on our way to the cafeteria. We walked at a steady, leisurely pace after passing and pausing at both our lockers to "dump and reload," as Jasper called it.

"Let's sit by ourselves today," I suggested as we came through the doors, immediately stopping to look around. I smiled up at him as I eyed the smaller tables on the outer edges of the cafeteria, and the one free one a few tables away from the _coven_'s normal table. "It would be nice to after so long, don't you think?"

He looked down at me then over at the table he knew I was eyeing, and then smiled and turned to me. His arms subtly twitched, and I felt my stagnant need within me rise startlingly in an instant. One look at Jasper told me it was his desperation, however, as I took in his locked jaw and intense gaze. An errant thought passed through my mind as I silently mourned the loss of the fiery red eyes I had seen in my many dreams of him; somehow, they just seemed to _fit _him more.

"Hey," I said softly, in the most calming voice I could manage. I was shaking from the force of the emotions he was projecting. "What is it?"

He looked at me silently for several more moments, before he sighed. "You have no idea how much I wish we were anywhere but in this hall, in this school, right now."

I blushed, but smiled. "I think I have some idea, actually," I muttered, glancing around the cafeteria again. I eyed the table we were going to sit at again. Taking Jasper's hand, I tug lightly and he cracks a large grin and follows me to the short line at the food station. "What would you like, darlin'?" he asked me, looking at the menu.

I smiled and spun on my heels. As always, especially now, I held tight on my accent. I'd be trying extra hard today since my copious slip ups yesterday and the subsequent spat that had occurred between my husband and I. "You know, I think you should surprise me, baby," I said sweetly, batting my eyelashes.

He chuckled and kissed my forehead, both of us sighing slightly in disappointment at having to settle for such. "Sure thang, baby girl. Why don't you go save our table," he suggested lightheartedly. He was looking over my head in its direction as he continued, "it seems we're not the only ones wanting to sit there."

I spun around and narrowed my eyes, determined as I eyed the two walking towards it. I kept my head down and sped up as I walked away from Jasper, grinning at him with satisfaction as I sequestered the table of choice. I waited for a few seconds, watching my husband and I smiled as I saw how nervous he was, about what I had no idea. To many, you wouldn't be able to tell when Major Whitlock felt that way, but I always had been able to; perhaps it was part of growing up with him… perhaps it was being his mate.

Or, perhaps, it was both.

I only found out what it was that indeed had him anxious when he sat the tray down on the table before seating himself as well. I smiled at him before glancing down, and I gasped and blinked down at the bowl before me.

_Mutton broth and vegetables._

I swallowed back the emotions welling within me, and I glanced up at him with a wordless, watery smile of understanding.

"Good choice?" he murmured, still nervous despite the smile. Though I could see a slight one gracing his face as well.

I cleared my throat. "Very," I breathed. When his face did not clear of nerves, I completely understood this for what it was. It wasn't a test of my honesty, but more a reassurance for him. He wanted me to comprehend the sentimental factor, the reasoning behind his choosing this meal, so that he could be sure in himself that I really did have all of my memories of us together.

His eyes were intensely locked on mine, and though I knew he felt my understanding, I knew he was waiting for me to voice my knowledge. With a soft smile, I did just that. "You cooked this for me on our first date."

He relaxed, the smile on his face now large and yet easy at the same time. It wasn't an all-encompassing relief, but a softly spoken, sweet and deeply personal sense; it was how Jasper was with a lot of things—my softly-spoken southern gentlemen. "That's right," he said, voice barely breaking above a whisper. "I had been so nervous. This was our first date, combined with the fact that it was supposed to be a secret one. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted to show you how committed I was, how much I wanted you, loved you, needed you." He laughed softly. This moment was so intimate. We both leaned forward, entranced by the other. "But I had no idea how to cook." My shoulders shook with laughter and he scowled playfully. "Isabella!" he whined and my giggle became full-belly laughter as my head was thrown back of its own accord. "It's not fuckin' funny, dammit. I was so nervous I thought I would shit myself, and then I had a light bulb moment and remembered you liked mutton broth. Do you have any idea how hard it was to sneak into mama's stash of family recipes? And do you have any idea how complicated those books are? Jaysus, I could barely understand 'em."

I snorted while still laughing and he mumbled petulantly, "well, at least_ you_ find this amusing."

"Oh, I do," I crowed, "you have no idea how much!" I quieted my laughter quickly then, but my lips were still twitching as I told him, "besides, it was actually oranges that I liked, Whitlock. Though I must admit, despite your shoddy-at-best cooking, you grew better and I came to love mutton broth."

He shook his head, bemoaning, "So the wife thinks I can't cook now. Christ. Next it'll be that I don't fuck or make love right."

"No!" I shouted, far louder than I meant to, shocking us both. I blushed as people around us turned and looked and I leaned closer. Unfortunately, in my passion, my accent slipped again, and I couldn't help but wince as I realized just how much. "Lemme tell ya, Jasper, there are a lot of things that you could improve on, but you and I both know that makin' love and fuckin' ain't two of those things," I hissed, promptly leaning back again quickly and we shared a shocked but amused laugh.

"Good to know," he said with a smirk. It was his turn to lean in. "Besides, I knew after the fact that you liked oranges—not that you told me or anythin'—but as you said, you did come to love mutton broth. I was just broadening your horizons." The sweet tenderness of his voice overpowered any humor in his words and I smiled softly, mirroring his bodily movements and leaning forward as well.

"Of course I did," I said quietly, looking at my husband but not really seeing him. My mind was wrapped around memories of a time more than one hundred and fifty years ago. "The man I loved—the man I still love today—was making me a meal and creating the perfect first date a girl could wish for… nerves and all."

He sighed and my eyes closed briefly as his breath washed over me—as disgusting as many thought it was, to vampires it was just another avenue to scent. And scent is important—especially for mates, Jasper says. I could see it now. I could do nothing but lean in as well, and if I was of my own mind and not half out of it because of… _everything _then I would have laughed when we both looked at the other's lips at the same time, but as it was I simply _could not_. We slowly moved closer and closer, almost as if we were being pulled toward one another by the lips.

It felt like the world had stopped, or perhaps merely drifted into the background, into nothingness. And then Jasper groaned aloud and pulled back slowly, as if he were pulling back against a chain that was pulling him forward. I briefly watched as he shook his head, still looking down and away from me, before I too, was looking away from him. I swallowed thickly and tried to take a deep breath to settle myself, which obviously didn't work as my eyes filled with tears. Rejection stung like a bug, even more so when it came from someone you had never thought you'd experience it with.

I felt Jasper's cold hand on my cheek then and his hand urged me to look up. I was helpless to him, and so I did. "Baby girl, please, don't feel like that," his smooth, tender voice begged me quietly, earnestly. His thumb rubbed back and forth across my skin, wiping away tears. "It's not what you think. I'm not rejecting you. But you know it's too soon for us to kiss in public right now, and the first time we _do _kiss in public, I would rather it not be in front of a bunch of jealous, horny teenagers in a school cafeteria."

I swallowed again and willed the tears back, but they stayed still as my mind quarreled with itself. I wasn't quite sure I believed him, and this feeling was something Jasper was monitoring carefully, because he left his hand fall from my cheek. He fisted his hand and then rested the knuckles under my chin, which I had unknowingly tilted down once again when his touch had first ceased. With those knuckles, he dragged my face up, and looking me directly in the eye, he said, "I love you, Mrs. Whitlock," pushing all he felt for me into me. I gasped at the devotion, love, desire, and countless other emotions that I felt in that moment, and my eyes widened and welled with tears again, this time for an entirely different reason.

He slowly let it dwindle after a few minutes of letting me feel it, my eyes closed and a smile on my face. Knowing he was waiting for my reaction now that I wasn't utterly overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for me, I looked him square in the eye and, taking a deep breath, I smiled and nodded once. "I'm sorry," I whispered, "I understand, baby. I guess I just thought—"

"I know what you thought," he replied with a raised eyebrow, cutting me off firmly. "But I could never _not _want you, Bella. For one thing, you are my mate, for another, you are my wife. In either case, it is completely against my nature not to love, cherish and desire you." He looked down at my full bowl then, and smirked. "I think I've been sequestering too much of your time, darlin'. You need to eat."

I nodded and took a tentative first bite of the mutton. I smiled at the memories it caused, but it was definitely true that no one could cook this as well as my husband could. And he knew it, too. I quickly finished the meal, just in time it seemed as people around us got up and began moving toward their next class. Jasper grabbed my tray and took them to where they were obviously supposed to be left, while I gathered our things together, ignoring the stares, glances, and whispers of those around us—as well as the members of Jasper's _coven_. I wasn't quite sure I was up to facing them today.

"Edward's in this class with you," he told me as he walked me to Biology. "I hope you don't mind, baby, but he'll most likely be your partner, too, 'cause the seat next to his is the only one left."

I nodded. I was becoming more and more nervous the closer we got. I hadn't made it to my classes after lunch yesterday, so I had no idea what to expect. And… and… and _what if he touched me?_

Jasper sensed my panic, understanding the reason behind it somehow. "The family knows not to touch you, wifey. And they wouldn't dare anger the God of War." I didn't quite understand why, but somehow that really did calm me.

"Okay," I breathed after a few deep breaths.

We walked a little farther until we finally made it to the classroom. His hand caught my wrist and he stopped us in the empty hallway, his hands cupping both cheeks as he leaned forward and looked deep into my eyes. His thumbs caressed my face softly, and he kissed my cheeks and my forehead quickly and sweetly, before leaning back again. "You'll be all right, darlin', and I'm right down the hall if you need me. Just say the word; I'll hear ya and I'll come and getcha." His voice was soothing, even. It calmed me significantly and I nodded and kissed his cheek, lingering perhaps a little too long because he leaned back and winked at me, smirking.

I watched as he walked down the hall, taking note of the classroom he entered, before I turned and entered the classroom. I was surprised to see that most students were in, as was the teacher, and yet the lesson had not begun yet. I walked up to the teacher and smiled, with a small nod in greeting after he spoke to me. He gave me the textbook required and then directed me to sit next to Edward. Resigned and slightly jittery and being so close to someone I knew so little, I walked slowly to the table at which he was already seated.

We shared a nod and small smile in greeting, and I was tensed for much of the first fifteen minutes once the teacher—Mr. Banner—called the class into order and begun the lesson. The longer the class went on, the longer I found him rather easy to be around. Not once did I find him to be watching me like a hawk, nor did I find myself doing the same. I was not as on edge, watching for sudden movements from all close and around me.

"All right," Mr. Banner began, "I want you to turn to your partner and discuss what you have just learned. See if you can come up with alternative examples."

Swallowing, I turned to Edward. He did the same and smiled slightly. He was the first to speak, sensing my hesitance. "Hello, Bella."

I nodded and smiled tightly. "Hello, Edward."

His smile grew. "I'm glad you remember my name. Let me begin by telling you that I truly admired your ability to stand up against Rosalie yesterday. She hasn't quite experienced that and I, for one, think it was most healthy and educational for her."

We laughed together and I blushed, looking down at the text in front of me. "I am only sorry that I was so rude. It was already quite the shocking day as it was."

He chuckled. "Yes, well, Jasper gave me the impression that you've always been a bit of a potty mouth—even back then."

A laugh bubbled within me and I nodded. "That is true. But I'm extremely lucky for finding Jasper; back then a woman swearing was like the world ending or something."

Edward laughed loudly, nodding enthusiastically, a broad smile on his face. "Tell me about it," he muttered sarcastically with a role of the eyes. "Like the return of the bubonic plague."

My lips twitched.

Edward's laugh stopped soon and he sighed. "You are very aggravating, you know," he said gently.

I frowned and glanced at him then settled my gaze safely back on the text. "Why's that?"

His voice lowered considerable. "My gift does not work with you. Though it is peaceful, I still don't like feeling 'deaf'." His voice was still soft, and he chuckled. I glanced again to see a sweet smile on his face. "I can truly appreciate my wife's ire when she is 'blind' at the odd occasion that her gift becomes defective. It is most disconcerting."

I chuckled, replying dryly, "Welcome to everyone else's reality."

He laughed as well, but then looked up and spotted Mr. Banner. "Perhaps we should come up with a few ideas now?" he suggested, glancing at me and nodding his head vaguely in Mr. Banner's direction.

"Good idea," I replied and we quickly said the first good ideas that came to mind, our eyes on him as he approached our table, finally reaching it after a few more minutes. He pleasantly asked us what we had come up with, and I let Edward explain our ideas, saying nothing as I looked down at the text.

"And did you not think you should give Bella a chance, Edward?" the teacher asked, and my cheeks flushed as I frowned down at the textbook in anger.

Edward reacted verbally, his voice cool and level but still bristled with anger. "She actually came up with three of the five, Mr. Banner." There was an uncomfortable pause, and I breathed a sweet sigh of relief as the bell went and the students stood up from their chairs. I followed suit.

Before I left, I looked up at Edward. "Thank you," I said simply and he nodded.

"See you soon, Bella," he replied warmly. "It was nice to meet you."

I nodded. "And you," I replied, before turning around and quickly walking out the door. I smiled as I saw Jasper already waiting for me.

"Gym," I moaned as I reached him and we began our walk to the gymnasium.

He chuckled, running a hand through his honey curls. He wrapped his arm around my waist as well walked slowly to the gym, both of us wanting to prolong our time together and neither willing—or needing—to admit it. "Darlin' wife, I know you hate it, and that you're not... athletically inclined"—he guffawed and my hand twitched to smack his chest, eyes narrowing playfully—"but you have no choice, and I'll be right there to catch you if you fall… or trip." He snorted as I slapped his chest lightly with the back of my hand. He took my hand softly in his and kissed my fingers, soothing the small sting with the cool.

We breezed through gym, and before I knew it, it was time to leave. I was absolutely buzzing with excitement as I quickly changed and met Jasper outside the gym. We stopped one last time outside both our lockers and then made our way to Jasper's bike. Jasper took my bag for me in one hand, his other arm wrapped around my waist.

The ride home was lovely, the speed again something I was in awe of. It was a shame when we reached the house, however, as two people, one in a wheelchair, older, and the other, younger, behind him, were waiting outside—people I was sure were the Blacks, if my faint memories served me correctly.

Jasper hissed at the sight of them and I frowned as I felt his protectiveness, anger and possessiveness. I quickly worked to calm him down, doing all that I could, while eyeing the Blacks in front of us unsurely. I had not seen them in ages, so I had no idea how to be around them. It was the one time that I wished for my father's presence since arriving in Forks.

"I'll call you as soon as I can, baby," I told him as I climbed off the bike. I stepped closer to him immediately at the sound of his growl, his eyes still glued to the two men.

"Are you sure you'll be all right alone here with them?" he asked me, barely able to keep his voice even. I looked toward them as well before I could help myself, and my breath hitched at their extremely angry faces. My confidence wavered and hesitance picked up at the thought of being alone with the two of them, fear spiking at the thought of what they could possibly want.

A second after these emotions registered in my mind, they were gone, replaced with confidence and determination. I smiled at Jasper and he winked at me.

"I better go, darlin'," he said vaguely, and I knew he, like me, did not want to separate. I sighed and nodded, hugging myself as he started the engine again, made a wide circle and zoomed off, much too fast for me, of course. Pain tugged at my heart, and I sighed once more, trying to calm myself and steady my emotions. It took me a few minutes before I was ready and when I turned I wished I hadn't.

There, on the hooded verandah, hostile guests awaited me and somehow I just knew this wasn't a purely social visit. Somehow, I just knew that they knew something that they shouldn't.

And for some reason, I was not sure that this meeting would end well.

* * *

**Yes. I know. The Blacks. We'll see how that meeting goes next chapter... and I really want to tell you, but I can't. :(**

**Please review and tell me what you thought, as always...**

**ncbexie25**


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